Partners In Crime
by Rebelmaiden
Summary: Nottingham is stirred by the arrival of two foreign Ladies. Sent by their fathers together with considerable 'donations' for Sheriff Vaysey, they are to play important roles in his schemes of power. However, once they meet Sir Guy of Gisborne...GuyxOC
1. Contributions

**DISCLAIMER: **_I don't own anything. Unfortunately. :P Except for my luffly charrie Elizabeth(and some other, less luffly ones) Yeah, I do have a thing for taht name. All of my stories with the main character named Elizabeth have worked out perfectly...I've tried Isabels and Sashas, but their stories seemed to be dragging instead of pacing along. So, I'm going to go for another Lizzie. :) _

_Next-this is my first attempt at Robin Hood fanfiction. I don't know how it worked out, due to my inexperience, but I hope you like it. I would like to ask you for a big favor, all of you-REVIEW! If you don't want to do it later, just do it this, one time so I would know if I should continue or not. Bear it in mind that this is only the intro, and that there is a lot more I've in store for you... ;)_

Enjoy!

**Chapter One**

The summer Sun slowly began to raise above the Sherwood forest, bathing the leaves in its golden rays that mostly reflected off them and never reached inside the heavy cover. That was one of the primary things that made such thick forests perfect for outlaws-it took time to get used to the constant darkness on the roads. If anyone decided to travel through it, of course. A large majority of people avoided it if they could if they had any valuables at all, but then again they easily changed their decisions concerning the matter when they saw how much time it saved. And, of course, the foolhardy belief of humans;

„…that 'of all the people, Robin Hood isn't going to rob _precisely_ us!"

Lady Elizabeth Horvat let out a long, restrained sigh that would've blown off the gently set, fashionable hood on the reddish hair of her travelling companion had it been full. During the last three hours, ever since they had come close to Notthingam and Sherwood forest, all Lady Ines Novak had been able to talk about had been the fact she was 'completely _not_ afraid Robin Hood', as she had poorly worded it. Naturally, every time she'd mention that, she would have also added 'Besides, what is the probability of him robbing precisely us?', accompanying it with such a nervous giggle Elizabeth wished to laugh at her and point out her terrible acting to her.

„Did I..say…_točno_? I mean, correct!" Ines chuckled anxiously again, „It is good for practice."

Under normal circumstances a very talkative person, Elizabeth was not at all surprised she remained silent now, her lips compressing into a thin, pale line. Normal circumstances did not mean in the company of a boring, egocentric woman that repeated herself constantly. Certainly, her English_ did_ require practice. While Elizabeth's father was a worldly man, who had traveled throughout civillized Europe together with his wife and his two children(Elizabeth and her brother Ivan) and therefore had been teaching his daughter English ever since she was six years old, Ines had only begun learning the language more intensively when she had been informed she would be departing for England one day. That had not improved her grasp on it, since she had never quite had the flair for languages. Elizabeth was extremely proud of her own fluency in English. One of the reasons for her insisting they did not speak Croatian even when alone.

"Isn't this wonderful? In few hours we be at Nottingham!" Ines squealed, Elizabeth not even trying to amend her sentence. Frankly, she hoped Ines was going to embarrass herself in front of the Lords they encountered during their stay, so her well thought out plan of finding a most handsome Englishman and marrying him would be crushed. Oh, how she wished someone, anyone else had had parents with similar aspirations for their daughters as hers. Anyone, anyone but Ines would have sufficed perfectly. Actually, not anyone. There were certain Ladies from Croatia she hated with passion, and some that were more beautiful than Ines and were more of a competition in her eyes. But the others…

No, no, she thought, her full lips stretching into a sly smile. Compared to anyone else, she would not have appeared nearly as breathtaking as compared to Ines. A rose was a beautiful flower, but compared to weeds it look far prettier than compared to tulips. Elizabeth, with her glossy, dark brown hair reaching nearly to her waist and her dark chocolate eyes, mixed with her full bosom and proud carriage considered herself the rose in this case, and the reddish-haired, skinny and flat Ines the weed. Ines had her qualities, all right, in spite of the fact they were hardly discernable. She was graceful, for one-Elizabeth had never quite been called that by her peers. The features of her face were larger than those of Elizabeth, and her face was less chubby-the slight roundness of her cheeks was something Elizabeth would've gladly gotten rid of. Ines could've sung beautifully, but that was not exactly among her finest qualities, since she could have talked one's ears off by telling them about how singing was her passion.

Elizabeth liked to read-she liked poetry and romance in general. But singing…her voice had simply not been made for that. She'd been ordained to be the tone-deaf one. Had she wanted, she might have learned to play instruments better. She had, however, let go of that dream early in her childhood, choosing to be the listening party when it came to music. But dancing! Ah, that was a whole different matter. She absolutely adored dancing. Exotic dances were her soft spot. Ines could've danced as well, only anything exotic was foreign to her. Elizabeth took the lead there.

Pride filling her as she thought of her accomplishments, how better than Ines she was and how she was bound to find a husband, as her parents had told her to, first, her good mood returned and she smirked a wicked smirk at Ines.

"Of course. If Robin Hood does not rob us first."

The irony in her voice only provoked another giggle from the other Lady, who was not of the sort to stand up for her opinions. Which Elizabeth found despicable. Perhaps the Lords were going to, too?

"No. As you said…" And she recited the line she'd firstly taken Elizabeth from her daydreams with once again. With a few more mistakes. Nodding her head, Elizabeth leaned against the window, which was shut, calculating how much longer would she really have to tolerate Ines until they reached Nottingham.

She had used powers of self-control beyond belief during the past month, during which they had traveled together. The journey had taken quite a while, since Lady Ines required regular and long stops to rest. Not like most people, Elizabeth wasn't proud of managing to restrain herself. She was of those who would've been proud had they kicked the hell out of Ines, but also with enough wit to see that wasn't a wise thing to do. That wit, of course, had its limits. Temper knew how to override it.

Her father had made the acquaintance of Sheriff Vaysey of Nottingham during one of his solitary travels to North-Western Europe. He had not liked the man, even though he did claim he respected him even presently. Vaysey knew how to make best use of every opportunity, regardless all the subjectivity that played its part in decisions. He would've simply rid himself of it, or perhaps he had been born without it, for other people meant nothing to him. The sole thing that existed was him and his power. Elizabeth's father also remembered his sadistic nature. Yet none of it had made him trust the man less-he placed enough faith in him to send him his only daughter and entrust him with her. Elizabeth was no fool, though. It had had more to do with the fact Lord Horvat sent regular contributions to the Sheriff's 'cause' than with anything else that Vaysey had been so willing and Horvat so trusting. The cause of overthrowing King Richard. Honestly, Elizabeth had hardly cared about it much. King John or King Richard, it had been all the same to her before. Now, when she had joined the side of John, it did become rather imperative that he won. Since it was highly unlikely that Vaysey was going to connect her with a husband from the other side. Even though that wasn't all that unlikely, with all the schemes that man was renowned for.

One way or another, her father was putting a lot of money into her safe future. Into her marrying a prominent Englishman and being a close ally of the new King. Their own Croatia was a fine kingdom, but Lord Horvat, very close to the King, predicted changes-bad changes. And he was known as a person of excellent insight.

She had no intention of disappointing him.

* * *

"My Lord, the guards report the daughters of the Lords Horvat and Novak have arrived." Sir Guy of Gisborne flatly addressed the Sheriff, who was sitting behind his desk and humming something to himself while scribbling over a parchment.

During the last few months, the major topic of Vaysey besides catching Robin Hood and increasing taxes had been the two ladies coming from the distant Kingdom of Croatia. Apparently, their fathers had paid significant sums of gold to support their cause. In return, the Sheriff promised to ensure their daughters prominent marriages in England. The fathers must have been aware that they would be giving their daughters as another form of donation-powerful political tools for the Sheriff. Then again, it was all the same to the women. No matter what was behind the marriage, they would, in the end, get married.

And Vaysey must have had some plan in his mind since he had been so eager for them to reach Nottingham.

Indeed, as soon as Guy's words reached his ears, the Sheriff bolted upright, a huge grin forming on his face. The malicious glinting in his eyes grew stronger as he spoke.

"Excellent_, excellent_, Gisborne! I thought they would never be here…" His brow creased suddenly, "Have they brought chaperones?"

"Yes." Guy replied uninterestedly, slightly annoyed. Was that his brilliant plan? Something that had to do with chaperones? Why did he not simply tell him, if it was anything of great importance? Gritting his teeth, he waited for the Sheriff to say something further, a darkness flashing through his blue-gray eyes.

The Sheriff's face smoothed out and he rose, nodding his head approvingly.

"Good, good, better, excellent!" He nearly shouted again, pacing from the desk towards the window, through which he could have easily seen the courtyard. His small, dark eyes traced lively over the two ladies being helped out of their carriages. Guy could've seen them from his position as well, both in travel robes, one with slightly lighter hair. While their facial features escaped him from this distance, he instantly averted his eyes from the darker one-her rich, brown locks reminded him of Marian too much.

"Look at them, Gisborne." The Sheriff mused absently, "Lady Ines and Lady Elizabeth. They arrive with contributions from their fathers…and _as_ contributions as well." He chuckled, "Oh, I have their destinies well-planned, Gisborne, well-planned indeed. Plans that have multiple possibilities, multiple endings, dependant of the characters of these ladies. But first…"

He spun around, a determined expression of confidence on his face; one that meant whatever he was to say would be a strict order.

"First, you must marry one of them."

Guy flinched, certain that it would have been less of a shock being thrown into a frozen pond. Since the words had come just as he'd been thinking about Marian, and their ruined engagement, at first he believed he hadn't heard the Sheriff right. That must have been it. Surely he could not have just told him to…

"Marry, my Lord?"

He echoed, placing a great deal of effort for his face to remain blank.

"Yes, Goddamnit, marry, Gisborne!" Vaysey growled, striding towards the desk and hitting his fist against it, "You _will_ marry one of them. I will not hear any refusals or excuses!" He dropped back into his chair, huffing, "We need a stronger connection with their fathers, so their donations would not stop coming in, now don't we? Besides…"He chortled, "It is about time you settled down. Now…"

And he went on with the descriptions of the ladies, as if Guy had already said yes.

Of course, he knew that the Sheriff was right. Politics was a game that required marriage, and politics meant position and power. The more allies Prince John gathered, secure allies, the more profit would be in it for Vaysey, and Guy. Besides, he had no other choice but to obey Vaysey if he wished to remain within the entire plot. Still, it did not mean he had to like it. Exhaling slowly through his nostrils, he forced himself to listen to the Sheriff.

"…Lady Horvat is a cousin of the Croatian King, which means she also has Hungarian blood. " The Sheriff smirked, "That may mean she has got a fierce temper. Hungarians usually do, as far as my knowledge goes." It was clear that he believed his knowledge to always be right by his tone, "Lady Novak has some relations to the Royal Family of France, but they are very distant. Nothing of use." He halted when he noticed Guy's cross look, waving his hand,

"Don't worry, you won't have to decide just yet! As a matter of fact, _you_ won't be deciding at all. There is a ball tonight, in their honor-I will meet the ladies, I will observe them, and I will pick out your…"He laughed, "Blushing bride. Now, off you go! I have work to do."

And his full attention was back to his papers, he went on humming a tune.

After a few seconds of fighting with anger at being controlled like this, Guy finally left, slamming the door behind him. He'd meant to ask about a lot of other things, he had meant to demand knowing of this plan entirely, which had all been wiped out when he'd been informed of this…insanity. So he was to get married? To a woman of Vaysey's choice? Which one was it going to be? The one resembling Marian, so he would have to live with being reminded of the woman he'd _actually _loved? Or the red-haired one, so he would simply have to live with a faceless, nameless wife that would never mean anything to him?

Whatever it was, he was not looking forward to it.

* * *

"Oh My God, hurry up_, hurry up_!" Ines squealed, jumping a bit, her hands grasping her long, dark yellow gown so hard her knuckles were white, "We'll be late!"

"We are allowed to be late, Ines." Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, raising her eyebrows as she twirled before the mirror in her bright red dress with a deep décolletage. She felt a boost of self-confidence as she noted Ines' flat bosom, so she grinned widely, "We are, after all, the guests of honor."

"But I can't wait to…be…there!" Ines stammered, hitting the right word, maybe by accident, "All the good looking men…I saw so many since we came!"

Her voice plainly showed that she believed herself to have already become the object of the adorations of those men. Fixing the last strand of her hair that had been out of her hairstyle, which consisted of a bun made of the upper layer of her wavy brown hair, resting on the thick, lower layer. All the hair was removed from her face, and she added the slightest touch of face powder.

"There." She turned to Ines, "Now I am ready. And I am certain you _have seen_ many."

The disapproving glance of the Lady Novak made her blood boil, and it had had nothing to do with her pointing out the mistake. Twisting her lips in a dissatisfactory manner, she shook her head, her hair falling down her shoulders freely, chastising;

"Elizabeth, you really had to put more on face. You look…plain."

Her irritation was now almost at its top, and Elizabeth had to bite her lower lip in order to manage a cool response. How dared she! She should've looked at herself before beginning to spit half-worded offenses at others! Even more so because she had taken special care of her appearance tonight. If she had not, she still would have appeared BETTER than Ines. Snorting, she threw a haughty glare at the mirror, raising and lowering her shoulders abruptly.

"I like it just fine. Perhaps you _should have_ put something more on _your _face. Or worn a deeper décolletage." With those words, she breezed out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Ines had been left behind wide-eyed and astounded. She was, Elizabeth thought as she walked towards the Grand Hall, most likely contemplating over how '_anyone could have said such a thing to the perfect, beautiful, wonderful woman she was both on the inside an the outside...how Elizabeth was just jealous and that was it.' _Or she was going to remind herself that Elizabeth could never have taken any criticism, and relay that to everyone she met tonight. Annoyance now turning into fury within her, she increased the rate of her step. Plain. _Plain_. She would show that idiot who was plain. When she woke up in the morning with all her hair gone, or if some food or another got into her face purely by accident tonight, she was going to see exactly what plain meant--

So preoccupied with her thoughts, she had not anticipated the stairway just after the corner she rapidly turned behind. By the time her mind comprehended its presence, it was already too late-she had stepped with only half of her foot on the second stair, and her polished shoe slipped, sending her flying through the air.

Fear erupted within her chest, mixing with the anger. In a matter of milliseconds, billions of thoughts rushed through her head. She was going to die. Break her neck. She clearly recalled this stairway, and it was not of the small sort. Rounded, it had not been designed to prevent one's fall before that prevention becoming fatal. Irrationally, the thought of Ines finding her all weak and dead at the bottom of the stairs became haunting. _Goddamn it_, she cursed inwardly, _I can already imagine her telling everyone how clumsiness and ungracefulness had always been my marking traits!_

Emotionally preparing herself for death, she waited for the blow, shutting her eyes closed. _Only let it be quick and painless…and let me fall gracefully…_

She hit against something, her heart rate increasing from painful to dizzying. This was it. This was it. She was…

…alive?

Taking in a deep breath, Elizabeth opened her eyes, and an overpowering wave of relief washed over her. She still lived. Furthermore, it seemed that she had not even broken anything, there was no pain. She would be able to continue to the ball undisturbed, as if nothing had happened.

But then she took notice of something else. How came she was not at the end of the stairway? She should've, by all logic, rolled there. And yes, how came there had been no rolling, she had not felt any impact with the stone at all? Her position was also quite awkward; as if she was hanging in mid-air, supported by something…someone's…arms?

With another deep gasp, Elizabeth realized she had fallen right into the embrace of a man, into whose striking blue-gray eyes she was staring right now.

It took her a few seconds to recover. Seconds during which she closed her eyes and opened them again for a few times, in order to dispose of the effect left by the line of rapid shocks-an eerie numbness. The man's hands, no matter who he was, felt pleasant and also had a calming sequence on her.

Finally, when she began to think somewhat clearer again, she snapped back to reality.

With bemusement, she suddenly became aware of what exactly she was doing. Once that happened, color rose to her cheeks and she flashed with embarrassment. This man, who had saved her life, undoubtedly, must have thought her to be a fainting ninny! A clumsy, half-witted woman. He was probably going to mention that to his friends or acquaintances, or his wife or the lady he was courting, and soon the entire castle was going to speak of how Lady Elizabeth Horvat had nearly lost consciousness upon a mere fall from the stairs! The fear and the panic from before gone, she began to see the whole incident as trivial, so appall for herself struck her when she realized she was shivering.

Stiffly, she pushed away from her savior, who, following her clue, let her down. As she got to assess his face, Elizabeth experienced the familiar fluttering in her stomach that came along with seeing someone handsome. Dark-everything about him was dark, in stark opposition with his pale skin. Even his eyes, blue-gray, had some hidden darkness within. He wore a leather outfit that suited him well-black suited him well. The aura his presence emitted could've been-_was_-unnerving, yet she found it more than satisfying. Wheezing shakily, she opened her mouth to say something, for it seemed to her as if they had both been silent for more than just a number of seconds.

But what to say? Naturally, she amended herself, she was not Ines! She knew what to say and when to say it. Or, at least, she always had _something_ to say. Scolding herself inwardly for such cowardly behavior, she focused on the man, unable to tear her eyes from his ever since the moment they'd landed upon them.

"I—I thank you, my Lord. You've most certainly saved my life."

Her tone, to her displeasure, sounded overly high-pitched and somewhat giddy. Biting on her lower lip harshly and jutting out her chin, she prayed he wouldn't take it for chicken heartedness, or would not notice it at all.

For one, he seemed completely unaffected by all that had happened. There was no trace whatsoever of imbalance, emotion, anything on his features. Just the mild amusement that dawned in his eyes as he responded to her, the amusement that made her cheeks redden even more.

"I most certainly did. You should watch where you are going more carefully next time, my Lady."

She was nearly drawing blood from her lip now, for his voice was cold and calm, yet with that unmistakable undertone of mockery. _I most certainly did…_Who did he think he was? The vision of Nottingham discussing the 'unfortunate fall of Elizabeth Horvat' passed before her eyes, almost giving her another shudder. Standing straighter, squaring her shoulders, she clenched her teeth and came up with a plot with the speed of light. She was going to thank him once more and walk away. Then, he would not know her name, he would not have a chance to ask her, and he would not be able to tell quite everyone of her…for some time, at least. By then, she was going to make it her goal to charm Nottingham so none of them would believe him when he(surely with the help of Ines) told them how clumsy she was.

Rising to her fullest height, proud of her evil plan, she addressed him with the most dignified voice she could've mustered.

"Of course, my Lord." Some parts of her were still trembling, so she began moving in order to conceal it, "You have my most sincere thanks. Now, excuse me, I am expected at the ball." Curtsying at him, she removed her orbs from his and continued walking as elegantly as she could down the hallway.

Guy of Gisborne stared after the lady, traces of that amusement still in his glance. After a very dangerous fall, that could and would have resulted in her death had he not been lower on the stairs himself, she was obviously disheveled. Naturally. She was a woman. But _this _woman-instead of bursting into tears and not letting go of the one who'd saved her for hours, she had pushed away, standing on her own feet immediately, attempting to _hide _anything was wrong with her and diminishing the near-death experience she had just been through.

Intrigued, he pulled her appearance from his mind. For some reason, it was not completely clear to him. The most vivid thing about her he recalled where her eyes. Chocolate brown, exotic-looking eyes. There was some wilderness within them, not well-hidden. An honest woman, he would have judged. Then again, he had thought the same for Marian...

Marian.

He remembered his conversation with Vaysey, how he'd, from far, compared the two ladies that had arrived by carriage in the morning. The image of the darker one flashed before his eyes, the one he had compared with Marian then.

Could this have been her?

She carried no foreign accent, by what he'd noticed. But now that he thought about it, he had never seen her around Nottingham Castle. And that dark hair…Guy could've sworn it was the same woman, not so much because there were no women with such hair color in Nottingham, but more because, somehow, the idea of having to marry this interesting lady didn't seem as repulsive to him all of a sudden.

In a few paces, he was down the stairs, just in time before the lady turned about the next corner. He could not let her get away, if ignoring his wish to study her face further, then solely for the sake of not letting her get away with transparent feigning of fearlessness. The least she owed him was a name.

"My lady!" He shouted after the hem of her red dress disappearing behind the wall. It stopped, and for a moment Guy thought she was truly going to leave. Then, slowly, she began retreating, and soon the lady stood there entirely, facing him. Smirking contently, Guy went on, "I believe I have missed your name."

Stupefied, Elizabeth silently uttered a million of hoaxes and curses meant for this man. Well, had he chased after her only because he wanted to know about who he was to spread the rumors or not?

Maybe _not._ Glad that they were far apart, so he couldn't have seen her expression, she found how stupidly she'd missed the actual romance of their situation. Through all the embarrassment, the shock and the panic, Elizabeth had failed to spot the most obvious. She had fallen, to be caught by a very handsome man. It was easily possible he had come after her without the slightest desire of ever mentioning this in the context of her being _the clumsy_ lady…

That did not mean that she would fancy turning out like a whimp before him. Oh, no, it only gave her further reason to work on her strength.

With a mischievous smile, she cocked her head, "Lady Elizabeth Horvat."

So it was her. Elizabeth Horvat. The one, if his memory served him right, related to the King of Croatia. With, obviously, Hungarian temper and pride. She showed that flair. And there seemed to be a zest for life in her. As he stepped closer, he saw she did not look that much like Marian. Her face was wider, eyes larger and lips fuller.

That was good.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne." He introduced himself, kissing her hand. Elizabeth strangely enjoyed that sensation, "Welcome to Nottingham, Lady Horvat." He could not have resisted adding as he straightened, "It is most fortunate that I saved you, indeed. Or the rest of England would never have made the acquaintance of your person."

Elizabeth's smile withstood this, and she even let out a chuckle, in spite of the evident mockery in his words. _Of course _it was clear what he'd been implying-he had seen through her and what her intentions at this moment were. And he was determined to undermine her efforts. Well, she would be damned if she let him know he was succeeding…no matter how good looking he was.

"Indeed, Sir Guy, indeed. You have just done the people a tremendous favor."

"I claimed nothing else, my Lady."

"Naturally."

"I only wonder," Guy had slowly begun losing his patience. Not winning was something he disliked, especially concerning women. Marian had made sure he'd gotten used to it, but it hadn't changed his attitude. He took great pleasure in being the one delivering the final, killing strike, "If you had truly felt no fear whatsoever, or had you merely been acting _masterfully_?"

The heavy irony sent her lips forming into a straight line. Sir Guy was bold-dangerously bold, but not yet blunt. He knew how to provoke her, but not yet have her turn livid. As if he knew her, she noted. Out of unknown causes, the last thought made her beam again.

"There are certain things a lady keeps to herself, Sir Guy." She answered in a lecturing tone, "Surely you cannot expect of me to tell you _everything_!"

_Impossible_. The word that would've best described the marriage of him and this woman would've been impossible. Guy despised not being obeyed. Elizabeth had, instead of batting her eyelashes and saying _'You read me like a book, Sir Guy'_, retaliated and in such a way he could not have launched a counterattack anymore. She never would've abided her husband the way it would be expected of her.

_Interesting_. The woman was pretty. Such pointless bickering and games of words could've been entertaining. And he was certain of his ability to tame any lady. Including this one. Hungarian blood or not.

"Of course not, Lady Elizabeth." He bowed a slight, teasing bow, "Let us leave that matter behind us. I can hear the music coming from the Grand Hall. May I have the permission to accompany you there and ask for the first dance?"

The victorious feeling made Elizabeth feel a touch light-headed-or maybe it was the fact that Sir Guy offered her his arm and she readily took it, relishing as he agreed to his proposal. She could have said no, she could've continued their little war…but that would have only made it less enjoyable for her. It would've been her loss just as his. _She hoped._

"Most certainly, Sir. After all, you are my savior tonight. You can have as many dances as your heart desires."

The last part was something her mother, Ines, her governess and anyone would've warned her against, such an open display of willingness, but she hardly cared. As she walked into the Grand Hall at the arm of Sir Guy of Gisborne, the only thing she could have fully devoted her attention to was the intoxicating state he was drawing her entire being into.

**That's it for now, people! I love writing this story, but I'd like to beg for some reviews :). Just to know if you love it as much as I do. :)**

**Will update soon!**


	2. Illogically, Unreasonably, Stupidly

**DISCLAIMER: **_Of course, I don't own anything. :(_

_The next chapter is here, and it is long, even though not much happens here. More action will be in the following parts...I can't jump to the best right away! Duhhh!! ) Anyways, you guys better like this, because I wrote it with a nearly broken finger! :D Also, you know the drill: REVIEW! :) I thank to anyone who reviewed Chapter One._

**_Chapter Two_**

The ball went on until the wee hours of the night. After she had entered the Grand Hall with Sir Guy, Elizabeth had shared the first three dances with him. Of course, before that, she'd gone to greet Sheriff Vaysey, who had done nothing else but sat in his chair at the banquet table for the entire evening.

Elizabeth's father had told her a lot about him and his traits, for which she had sought as she'd curtsied to him lightly. She had quickly seen one did not need her father's excellent observational skills for a quick and correct estimation of the man's character.

As Vaysey's eyes landed upon her, it was clear he saw her as nothing but an object, which may have proven worthy, but could've also been easily destroyed or discarded if needed. For a couple of moments, she was truly stricken her father had placed her fate in the Sheriff's hands, in spite of the money that was supposed to have ensured her safety. Fortunately, after exchanging a few words with Vaysey, in which he welcomed her to Nottingham and expressed his 'hope of a continuing cooperation between him and Lord Horvat', she got the opportunity to excuse herself and return to the jollier benefits of the Hall.

Guy had accompanied her even as she'd gone to talk to Vaysey and during their conversation he'd stood quietly behind, waiting for her. Elizabeth had never been capable of noticing subtle little details, but it was unmistakable that his entire demeanor had changed the moment they had entered the room. Outside, when they'd been alone, he had taunted her, teased her, and even though he had never genuinely smiled or laughed, there'd been at least a _smirk_ present. Inside, among the crowd, his features took on a nearly solemn, emotionless mask. The cold aura around him grew stronger, and during their entire three dances he had not bothered to jest with her once or even initiate any casual conversation. All the burdens of that job had fallen onto her back.

Not that Elizabeth had a hard time talking. She was, after all, an extremely talkative creature, that could've babbled and babbled endlessly without being stopped. But she liked when people talked_ back_. Especially men. Especially handsome, dark-haired men. Especially handsome, dark-haired, blue-eyed men that had caught her on the stairway.

His complete lack of interest began to worry her, at first a tad, and then it began chewing painfully on her mind and heart. Had she done something wrong? She racked her brains. Had he realized there were better looking women around when they entered the ballroom? That added a fatal wound to her pride and she felt her mood dropping suddenly. One part of her even wondered was it possible that she had done wrong by not listening to the advices all had given her and granting him as many dances as he wanted? Had he thought her a trollop of some kind? Maybe he had been waiting for her to refuse his following offers for dances, and had grown more displeased as she accepted? In spite of speculating about that, she could not have brought herself to say 'no'.

When the three dances sped by, and when he parted from her with a cold, formal greeting, Elizabeth was nearly crushed by disappointment. She was certain that she was speaking to Sir Guy with any hopes of their further involvement of some kind for the last time. Responding with a swift smile and a polite 'Good Evening', she turned towards the refreshments table and took a glass of red wine. Surprisingly, as she drank, she caught her eyes following him over the Grand Hall. His black leather outfit was easily seen among the whirlwind of colors. She felt disappointment coming again-_what had she done wrong_? And just when she'd been so close--

"May I have this dance, my Lady?"

A red-haired Lord she had never seen before (well, she was in a whole new country) had approached her, and she smiled at him, accepting. During the evening, she had danced with five or six men, with each more than only once. They all talked to her, laughed with her, chatted with her, yet as midnight approached, Elizabeth found that she had not enjoyed with any single one of the half as much as she had with Sir Guy. In spite of his icy silence.

Such thoughts did not worry her much-she'd always been quick to fall for someone and quick to get over them. Her imagination would have been her most powerful tool-she would have played out all the scenarios in her head and that would've sufficed instead of real events. So, sitting down on one of the sofas designed for rest from dancing, she set her mind on how he had saved her life in the hallway, how he'd teased her and asked her for a dance, trying her hardest to erase all that happened afterwards. Well, with the exception of the fact she had loved to dance with him. Despite everything.

The clock struck midnight, and as if on cue, the Sheriff slowly got up from his chair. He had not done so ever since he'd first sat down and somehow everyone in the room noticed the silent action. The laughing stopped, the banter lowered to murmur, while the music ceased playing. Vaysey watched all of it with a satisfied grin, cocking his head and waiting until the quietness was complete and there was not a sound to be heard. Evidently, Elizabeth deduced, he was also truly a feared man.

Guy was standing next to him, seemingly indifferent. His eyes were also on the crowd, but empty-watching, but not seeing. She shuddered as they momentarily passed over her. There was no doubt in her mind it was one of pleasure.

_Don't give yourself false hopes, _She chided, but couldn't have helped it. Lying to herself was something she did with far more talent than lying to others. Briefly, she let herself relish within the notion that he had looked at her. Fooling herself that he had done it with premonition and that he hadn't looked at everyone else in the room. And that he'd actually_ seen_ her.

Clearing his throat, the Sheriff sounded, his voice cheerful and jolly, but with a hidden menace behind it. With other people, it was difficult to see such things, but Vaysey seemed to have wanted that malice evident.

"Good nobles of Nottingham! I'm certain all of you have been having fun tonight. I'm sure you know who, except for me, your _good _Sheriff, "The emphasis carefully placed on that adjective made Elizabeth's lips twist into an ironic curve, "…you have to thank for this occasion. Our lovely Croatian guests, Lady Elizabeth and Lady Ines." He did not bother to gesture at them, for finding them in the crowd would not have been as easy. Elizabeth recalled she had not seen Ines or thought about her during the entire evening. She surely hadn't missed her, she thought as her eyes flew over the Hall. Ines was there, standing next to a blond Lord(undoubtedly annoying him), smiling widely at Vaysey. Elizabeth averted her eyes back there, too. That way, she could've stolen glances of Sir Guy more often. She wondered if, after the Sheriff said his part, he would maybe ask her for a dance again. _Perhaps_ it was possible. It certainly aided her good disposition, thinking of it like that.

"Well, soon you shall have to thank them, and me, for a lot more!" Vaysey's voice cut through, "For I am proud to announce the upcoming engagements of Sir Guy of Gisborne…"

The Sheriff's dark eyes were searching the crowd. It took them moments, seconds, but Elizabeth's mind registered it as much longer. Marriage. Marriage. Marriage of Sir Guy of Gisborne. _To one of us_.

_It is me. Surely, it must be me. Yes, me, of course._

_No, maybe it is Ines, it is surely Ines. Ines…_

Her palms began to sweat and her heart hammered painfully within her chest. If Vaysey said 'Lady Horvat', if his eyes stopped on her, she swore she would faint. Either that, or jump around with joy. No, no, no, she wouldn't do anything of the sort! Why should it make her happy, anyway? _Marriage_…to a man she hardly knew!

Because of her father's ambitions, she reminded herself. Nothing more, nothing less. It had not a thing to do with emotional attachment. All right, she found him handsome, but nothing else._ Nothing_, she repeated, holding her breath still, wanting to look at him, but not daring to. The world slowly began twirling around her.

"…to Lady Ines Novak!"

_No!_

Cheers erupted through the room, accompanied by clapping of hands. Elizabeth looked down, not wishing to hear Ines screaming happily. _What tortures me most is how important she must feel right now! How proud, how proud…he had chosen her! HER! Over me! _Not wishing to meet the eyes of the other lady and see a triumphant look within them. _She will say she had always known it…that she had had such an opinion. That she had been sure of it. _Not wishing to see her walking over to Guy, beaming at him. _Damn it, I was sure he liked me! Now, I will have to put up with her bragging…even though he was supposed to have been _mine_! And what I've missed!_

Not wishing, but seeing it all.

Little comfort was brought to her letdown by knowing what had been the cause to his change of behavior (it must have been!), and that it hadn't been her. Wouldn't it have been better if she had done something amendable today to anger him, than him being engaged to another, that another being Ines?

At least he had danced with her. And he had been charming with her for at least a few minutes, if nothing else. That must have meant something. Even though he'd already known he was to marry Ines.

But why...why…_why had he chosen Ines_?

She wished to think he'd done it all before ever meeting the two of them, and was now regretting. But when she finally plucked up the courage to look into his face, it was completely smooth. If there was any regret, he wasn't showing it.

As she allowed to be swept up by another Lord into a vigorous dance, Elizabeth did not even see his face or hear his voice. Her hearing was completely blocked by Ines' victorious giggle and her vision by the cold eyes of a certain Sir Guy watching her emotionlessly.

Guy had debated whether to go to Locksley for the night or spend it in Nottingham Castle, as he had intended before since the Sheriff needed him early in the morning in order to take care of the delayed taxes. The reason to that dilemma was his new bride-to-be.

Lady Ines Novak. Just as he had gotten somewhat accustomed to the idea of taking Lady Elizabeth as his wife, that idea had vanished. It had been as Vaysey had wanted it to be, and it was going to be as Vaysey wanted it to be. He never should have dared think of something as preposterous as his own preference. Guy did not know why he had done so at all. It had only brought in the risk of the other thing happening together with disappointment, instead of whatever happened just happening, without any feeling.

Not that he had experienced _much_ feeling.

Still, he had, in spite of the knowledge of this all, permitted himself to hope for the Sheriff choosing Lady Elizabeth. Now he knew it had been stupid. The moment they had entered the Grand Hall together, he'd realized that. And, of course, his usual demeanor had returned-the cold, cool, arrogant one.

The reason to the question 'why' lied exactly there-it _had returned._ For a brief period of time, during his encounter with Elizabeth in the hallway, it had gone away. As if the lady had had some kind of melting effect on him, melting away the coldness and the emotionless behavior. He truly did not recall when had he experienced anything similar before (save for his times with Marian, but he did not want to think of those). Furthermore, he couldn't have recalled any other person that had been cause to such a turn of events. He highly doubted Lady Ines was going to be anything even close.

He could have seen the disappointment and the doubts that had crossed through her mind turbulently, those things she was always trying to hide so hard. And she actually believed she was any good at it. So stubbornly. Emotional people, emotional women even more, were hardly ever good at concealment of emotions. That was why Guy had so perfected his ability of lying and pretending-he was a man without many emotions. Any emotions, he would have dared say.

By the time he had danced three dances with Elizabeth, he'd recalled that he'd had no reason to do so any longer. Why keep dancing, when it was not as if he had drawn any pleasure from it? Yes, it had been enjoyable, a tiny bit enjoyable, but nothing more. And no more; besides, it could've had stirred unwanted rumors.

Elizabeth's spirits had so evidently decreased-when he'd greeted her, she had looked almost crestfallen. But by the time he got to the table, where he had sat down next to the Sheriff, he'd already spied her dancing with another man. After wondering for a split second if she had merely been putting up an act or truly forgetting him and indulging in leisure, he'd finally reached the conclusion that he had no reason to care, and had looked away flatly.

Guy was certain he would not have been the right husband for Elizabeth, one way or another. She would have certainly expected the kind of man he had, most likely due to the lack of sleep that day, been in the hallway. Charming and flirtatious. _Hmph_. He could've hardly recalled ever being overly like that (once again his thoughts snuck around Marian). It was crystal clear she had been negatively stricken by the real him. Had they married, she would have been unhappy. Not that he would have cared. Which was precisely what she would've minded. And for some idiotic reasons, Guy had not thought like that at all when alone in her presence.

As for Lady Ines…she was an extremely boring woman. The moment the Sheriff had announced their engagement, she had run to him and had hardly let go of him ever since. She'd spent the entire night smiling at him sheepishly, addressing him with phrases in heavily accented, half-spoken English, and pretty successfully countering his attempts at getting as far away from her as it was possible. Not to even mention her despicable insistence at beginning a conversation with him.

Elizabeth had been _very_ talkative. But for God's sake, at least she could have discussed something else than the detailed analysis of every female dress in the room or music and each and every mistake that the orchestra might have made. And at least she had known _how_ to speak properly. After enduring the tortures she had brought along for hours, he had finally withdrawn to his room, a part of him surprised she had not followed him even there.

So, it was four in the morning at the time being, and he was truly debating whether to leave for Locksley and return in but a couple of hours.

In the end, he saw how pointless, Ines or no Ines, that action would have been. After all, who was she to dictate what he did? If she dared to come and talk his ears off tomorrow, he would have her confined to her quarters. The thought of being married to that woman made him think he was going to spend many a night here, while keeping her locked away at Locksley. If she did not murder the servants with her moronic babbling. Then he would, perhaps, have the excuse to have her hanged on the base of committing murder? Shaking his head inwardly at the glee that caused within him, he lied onto his bed, deciding to get some sleep.

It would have been much better with Lady Elizabeth, indeed.

Elizabeth had wished for death to come as salvation to her for more than once during the past hour. Naturally, it hadn't come, for death was one of the things that never came upon being called, and that happened to come in the most inconvenient of times.

_And right now would be too convenient._

"I'm marrying him! _Odabrao je mene! _" Ines squealed, for the thousandth time, shifting on her bed. They had come to their quarters around half past four and they had not even changed into their sleeping gowns yet. Elizabeth because she was too tired and feeling too down, while Ines because she was '_very excited to sleep'_. At Elizabeth correcting her, she merely sniffed and said, "_Sir Guy does not mind!_" That rubbed salt into an open wound, but it did not make Elizabeth draw back-it only made her point out every mistake Ines made further. The more she was wounded, the more fervent in striking she became.

"And I had that feeling! He was looking at me for the entire time!"

"Of course. He has chosen you. We've said that for at least a million times in the last hour." Elizabeth said with a forced smile, leaning against the window above her bed. Instead of sitting on the mattress, she had chosen a place with a more spectacular view. She could've clearly seen the lake behind the castle, a spectacular sight underneath the upcoming Sun. It was still without a trace of the shining rays, but it was beginning to lighten outside. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, wishing she was out there rather than in here.

Ines was displeased by the lack of enthusiasm coming from her companion.

"But Elizabeta--Elizabeth! You see what this mean? I become his wife! I will have a husband!" She sprawled on the bed, giving up her sitting position, "Confess that he kept looking at me! And that he thinks me interesting!"

"You see what this _means, _I _will _become his wife. Admit would also be a term more adequate than confess. How should I know?" Elizabeth leaned away from the cold glass, shrugging, "It is not as if I'd spent my evening watching the…" The two of you, she had been about to say, but the context of Ines and Guy mentioned as one whole made her sick. So, she chose her words more wisely, "…behavior of Sir Guy towards you."

"Ah, but you danced with him! Three dances!" That was something worth pointing out. Nearly grinning, enticed by the partial bitterness in Ines' voice, Elizabeth spun around with an innocent look in her eyes. Ines wanted enthusiasm? Well, she was going to get it. In a completely different manner, certainly.

"Yes, now that I think of it, I have danced with Sir Guy." Oh, she did not need any thinking to remind herself of it, "But I do not recall him mentioning you at all. As a matter of fact, he had seemed a tad gloomy from the moment _we'd _entered the ballroom." She made sure she articulated the 'we' part for someone as illiterate, to put it plainly, as Ines to get the point.

All that came from the latter was silence.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, wondering if she had managed to touch a sore spot. But after a few seconds, a rather long pause, she was surprised by a soft-_snore _from Ines. A sigh of relief instinctively left her lungs. Usually, Ines was one of those people who fell asleep easily, but this…it had been in the_ best_ of times, and it had been _extremely _quick! Simpering, this time genuinely, Elizabeth gave the room a quick observation. She was tired, but it was already too early in the morning-if she went to bed now, she would not have woken until late afternoon. But if she did not find something to occupy herself with, she knew she would fall asleep in a matter of milliseconds.

Her books were yet to be unpacked, in the rooms assigned to her chaperone, Matilda. Matilda did not play any larger role at the moment-she was solely there for the sake of formalities. Ines' chaperone Ivana, on the other hand, kept the other Lady under a watchful eye. Elizabeth could've only imagined the heart attack the elderly woman would've suffered had Ines been caught by Guy during her fall…

Blinking her eyes, she pushed away from the window. Reading was to passive of an activity to keep her awake, anyway. She had to do something more active.

The clear, morning air sounded like exactly the thing she might have needed. Not bothering to take anything to cover her bare shoulders, she cast another glance at the alluring lake and headed out of the castle.

As she passed through the hallways, she could have heard the sounds of servants cleaning up the mess the ball had left. This time expressly cautious on the stairs, both not to fall and not to pay them too much attention, she descended without anyone's help, continuing onwards to the main exit.

The crisp air was just the refreshment for her-it was almost too cold as she hurriedly made her way to the lake she'd seen. Her intentions were to take a gentle stroll around it, just enough to clear her mind. Thinking about her problems was not what she needed. She was looking more for distraction from them.

The point of why Guy had picked Ines was far behind her. Whatever his reasons had been, she ascertained it was useless for her to bother with them. There was not a thing she could have changed, and she was positive it had not had anything to do with her behavior. He had seemed satisfied with at least that. What had remained as a burden on Elizabeth's chest, though, was the concept she was verily _hurting _because of it still.

It should have passed by now. By all the signs, the facts and the laws of this world, he had expired for her. He was no longer hers to want. Envy, a small amount of envy was the sole feeling her heart should have hosted when referring to him in her thoughts. Instead came all this disgusting hollowness combined with heavenly butterflies and scorching ache.

The reality of the woman who did belong to Guy had just been left lying in the quarters she shared with her made her frustration grow. To think she could have so easily disposed of her by murdering her and running away, calling her out for riding and having her fall off the horse, all those wonderful possibilities…that were never to be used, it made her want to scream right here and right now. But what use would that have been? It would've only served the purpose of her embarrassing herself and hearing whispers behind her back for the rest of her life…or a shorter, but equivalently unsettling period of time. Something she and her repletion wouldn't have survived.

Gritting her teeth and balling her hands into fists, she stopped, after having made a full circle around the lake. Swallowing deeply, she looked up at the castle, where the window to her room was. It was strange to think how only a few moments ago, she'd been up there, sitting and watching this scenery she was now part of. Just as strange as it was to imagine that, ten hours ago, she had still been hopeful about the matter of a certain man in black evolving a deeper relationship with her.

She did not exactly recognize the exact window, but she was pretty sure Ines was not watching her. For the sake of paranoia, she hid in the shadow of a tree, a willow whose branches reached to the damp grass. Only upon being secure of all curious stares that might have wandered nearby, after looking about her for ten to twenty times, only then did Lady Elizabeth allow a tear to run from her eye. It traveled along her full cheek around the corners of her lips, and then fell onto her collarbone.

_There. That's it. Now I can go back--_

'That' was scarcely over with just one tear.

When the second droplet fell onto the same spot, Elizabeth still hadn't given up her straight standing and her attempts at keeping a straight face.

_All right, one more. Now—_

Three more tears came, followed by five, then six, then ten, and so on until they reached infinite numbers. It did not take long for Elizabeth to be shaking with sobs, sobs that would've been loud had she not muffled them with her palms. Her knuckles turned white from the endeavor.

_In the name of God, you did not even…you do not even_ know_ the man! _It did not aid her.

She had been foolish. So terribly foolish. She should've known it never stood at 'just one', no matter what it was about, tears, gossip, dresses, food…men. There could have been none, yes. But the moment a single unit, a single representative of a kind came out to the open, another one was bound to follow. And after that, nothing could've stopped them. Just like one had never seen only one droplet of rain fall, one had rarely seen only one tear leave one's eye.

She should not have begun hoping…she should not have created one dream about herself and Guy. For the moment that had been created, it had left its roots deep within her, roots that could not have been so easily pulled out and that kept pulling out visions of what could have been.

Elizabeth had had dreams before; about plenty of other Lords she'd had the honor of knowing.

But deep within, she knew that Guy was one of a kind. To her.

Which was why she never should've met him. For now, she could've easily never made him leave her system.

The worst thing was-she did not even _want_ that.

Sheriff Vaysey had had Guy woken early, barely two hours after he had gone to sleep. Apparently, as the nervous guard who the fearful duty of dealing with him had been bestowed upon had informed him, there had been a sighting of Robin Hood reported by a certain noble. Vaysey required the matter looked into posthaste. The moment Guy dismissed him with a growl, the guard almost ran away, as if glad he had gotten out without any injuries. Inbound, he recollected the impression he had surely left on Lady Elizabeth and held back a snort. That had truly been the rarest of events.

He washed quickly and left his chambers, knowing that the Sheriff was to be obeyed, no matter how gullible his orders might've seemed, when it came to Robin Hood. The two of them had been leading a prolonged personal war that intimated being endless. Guy believed the world would never be big enough for both of them to coexist peacefully. Just as he could never have forgiven Hood for taking Marian away from him.

The vast share in his immediate reaction to the command was held by his undying desire for revenge. The ball had only ended, most that had been drunk were still in such a state and 'Robin Hood' was probably just a figment of some old, intoxicated man's ramblings and risen imagination. Yet Guy could not and would not have borne had Hood been here for that exact time when he had refused to explore the matter further. So he took no chances.

The air was cool, with an awakening effect. Not that he needed any of that. Guy had never been of those who needed a lot of sleep in order to function properly. Mostly he only required a few hours, and the longest he had gone without sleep had been for a week. One week, just after Marian had left him for Hood.

He planned on circling around the castle for a couple of times, if only in order to satisfy his own spirit, before reporting back to Vaysey and informing him it had been a false alarm. Unless, of course, he actually happened to catch Hood. In which case the outlaw most probably would not have lived to see the Sun rise.

The first round proved already that the latter was not to occur, at least not at this point in time. So, by the time he got to the spot he'd set as his starting point for the first time, he saw very little sense, if none, in doing the same all over again. Especially when considering the given circumstances. Robin Hood would have to be caught some other day. Besides, there were taxes to collect for the Sheriff.

Just as he began turning around, he heard a sound that made him stop dead in his tracks.

_A sob._

It wasn't that Guy was _shocked_ by someone crying. Hell, he _made_ people cry. What made him spin back at the speed of light was not shock at all-it was the strange familiarity of the voice producing it. Guy did not remember each and every sob he'd heard or induced. But he was undoubting that there was nothing special in this very sound. Yet he also could've sworn he had not heard it before…but knew the one producing it.

The sound was coming from the lake. Guy slowly began approaching it, cautious not to produce noise in order not to alert whoever was there and-as he conceived now-hiding in the shadows of the willow there. The closer he came, the clearer it became the crying person was a woman. Who had chosen her hideout well-it was only when he was steps away from her that he could've seen the flowing skirts of her red dress.

The red dress he had already encountered today. Or yesterday. And the dress whose silky fabric he had felt on his hands. The tresses of dark brown hair resting upon the colorful dress had flown around his face as he had caught Lady Elizabeth Horvat into his arms.

It was then that he stepped on a fallen branch, crushing it with his boot.

Elizabeth froze when she heard the sound. Initially, her optimistic part reached out, claiming…no, praying that it had been but an animal. Her entire being soon began to cling to that idea tightly, having her craving to unfalteringly believe that whatever was behind her possessed no consciousness and, more importantly, no tongue or communicative abilities. Soon, it dawned upon her she was never going to find out without turning back and _looking_.

Hesitantly, she began to do so. She would have most gladly remained glaring in front of herself, so even if it was a person behind her, she never got to be aware of it. But when she re-thought that, and it hit her what a cowardly act it would have been, she snorted inwardly, straightening and twirling decisively.

Wishing almost immediately she had gone with her first impulse.

Sir Guy of Gisborne had already witnessed her falling down the stairway. Correction, _flying off_ the stairway. What was he going to think of her character when _he now saw_ she had been crying like an infant? Or, worse, a weakling?

It was unfair. First, he got engaged to Ines. Of all people. And then, he had to come when she was crying because of him (as much as she wished to attach it to anything else). Of all people.

More tears threatened to come out, but this time she was motivated enough to stop them, blinking rapidly and placing her hand over her eyes. She could still get out of this with her vanity unharmed.

"Sir Guy…!" She exclaimed, placing every little bit of energy she had left into thinking of a solid lie to tell, "I…I must be allergic to willow…it bothers my eyes. " Then, wiping away the last of the tears on her cheeks, she dared look straight into his face, which was unreadable, "Good morning to you."

She had not been a good liar when she had been far less upset and with more time to think. Guy would have seen she was not telling the truth even if he had been dead drunk. This woman had been crying over something. He needed to find out what.

Not that he cared about it. It was, he recited to himself, all in the line of duty. What if she had seen Robin Hood? She could have had useful information. Or if the outlaws had, for example, ravished her or hurt her—

All of his excuses were erased. _Ravished her_. He could've imagined the dirty outlaw and his gang enjoying all that Elizabeth's body had to offer. No matter how hard he fought to return to what he believed to be his true reasons for ever nearing her, his mind outright refused to wrap around them. The sole part of it that remained was the last one. That his example had been a valid possibility-even if he knew that Hood would not have done it, there were other petty bandits.

Anger rose within him, threatening to burst out. This woman, he thought as he tried to control it, was no one he cared about. No one he knew. Why did the mere thought of any accident coming upon her made him want to kill someone? Each word echoed separately and bit by bit, as if cutting into his skull.

Naturally, he could not have allowed a guest, a daughter of an ally related to the King of Croatia be touched by filth! If word of any such thing reached the ears of her father, the Sheriff would've lost valuable advantages. Which meant Guy would have, too. When it finally dawned upon him, the explanation, he did not feel entirely contented by it. On the surface, he accepted it, that being enough for that problem to go away, if only temporarily.

Now, he had his fury left to deal with.

Slowly, but steadily, he took in a deep breath, just quietly enough for Elizabeth not to notice anything. It brought help in just the amount for him to be able to focus on forming a decent, uninterrupted sentence.

"You have been crying, Lady Elizabeth." It was the best he could have managed. Only as air finally got to his brain did he realize the situation he was in-a weeping woman was standing opposite to him. Guy had, obviously, never been good at consoling. As a matter of fact, he had never consoled anyone. There need for that had never arisen. _Just as no need has arisen now. _He added to himself rather urgently. He did not need to provide any comfort to this woman.

Elizabeth saw the unusual darkness pass through his eyes, something more than their normal crudeness. Bone-chilling was the finest description of the effect it had left, but Elizabeth would have added fascinating. Her breathing stopped for a few moments, during which she waited for him to say something, utter a word, hoping for…ah, hoping for many, many things that could never have come true.

The blunt statement should not have surprised her. It both had and had not, in a way. While among her hopes had firmly lied that of him returning to the charming ways he had displayed upon their first meeting, she'd also had a strong feeling it was not going to be. Beginning to breathe in and out again, she nearly forgot about how she had explained her swollen eyes to him. _I must look terrible! _She thought with ire as her voice, with a quivering edge, came out.

"I haven't, Sir Guy. I've exp-plained the eyes…"

She began with a litany of curses within her mind because of the damned mutter, and because of her stupid, irrational, crazy behavior. What was she letting him do to her? First taking away her ability to hide emotions, than making it impossible for her to lie to him convincingly…making her cry and blocking her mind? None of it was his fault. So she focused her irritation on herself.

"You have explained nonsense." Guy's voice was taking on a dangerous tone, as he made another step forward, "I must and shall know what really happened…my Lady." The pause was only as brief as it took him to bethink his own clarification, "The Sheriff requires knowing if any outlaws have been sighted--"

"Outlaws!?" Elizabeth shouted out before she could have given it any thought, "Outlaws? You believe that I am…that I have been crying? And because of outlaws?"

"I know that you have been crying." Guy persisted, "Whether it is because of outlaws or not is what you must tell me."

The situation that had seemed grievous to her seconds ago now seemed so comical she almost began laughing. And there she'd been, daring to begin to prospect he had come to her because of something called _concern. _Typically, he was sent by the Sheriff! The only reason he'd given her a second glance was because she might have just been a whimpering belle that had seen the outlaws and was beside herself with grief. While, in reality, it had been him she'd been sorrowful about.

Oh, she would've laughed, all right, had this not injured her in many ways. First-he considered her the sort of woman to cry over stupid things. Evidently. Second-he would not have given a damn about her weeping had he not been under orders. Third-he simply _would not have gotten off the idea of her crying_!

"Sir Guy," She began to sound impatient, "I told you, I have not been crying. Have you just called me a liar?"

Guy rolled his right hand into a fist. Did this woman even know how close to strangling her on the spot had she gotten him? The amount of energy it was taking him to rule over his temper? Scowling lividly, he snapped;

"I haven't called you a liar, but I still don't take back that I know you have been crying. Women are usually keen on hiding the truth when their--honor--is in question."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide and her eyebrows flew up. Honor? _Honor_? So he thought, what, that Robin Hood had raped her? How she wished to giggle right now! This, indeed, was a fine comedy. The irony and the laughability of the entire scheme completely dried her tears, clearing her thoughts and feelings.

However, the clearing had been too sudden, which led to an uncontrolled burst of boldness whirling back towards the surface of the lake, she quickly vented;

"Honor? So, if I told you I had been robbed of that honor by Robin Hood, you would do…what?" The surprise on how serious and stoic her voice had sounded splashed over her. Sir Guy was going to see her joke, though. He surely could not have thought she would have said anything like that as plainly and as straightforwardly.

Unfortunately, Guy's sense of humor had only existed during their first encounter. As her words reached his ears, he found his own shock and hostility grow as quickly as Elizabeth's audacity. His jaw tightened, his eyes turning murky. Hood..? So he had--? He had _dared? _His reactions were instinctive-in a long stride, he crossed the remaining distance between the two of them, his hands landing upon her shoulders. He turned her around; unsure of what exactly he was planning on doing-all he knew of was a sudden urge to hold her close.

Elizabeth felt she was being swirled, and when her eyes locked with those of Guy, she gulped in…she was not sure which sentiment was playing its role here. Her arms flew against his chest immediately, remaining there…and liking it. She liked being in his hold, she liked staring endlessly into his blue pools, and she could not have cared less for 'why' he was doing this. The only thing that mattered was that _he was. _Nothing else, nothing at all could've been in her mind at that moment-all had been exiled into plains of oblivion by his proximity.

His breath on her face made her tremble, but this time she did not condemn her weakness. She just stood there, orbs wide open, wishing for the moment to never end.

"I will kill him."

Guy spat, forcing her to leave the state of ecstasy she had entered. The solemn sound of his voice, the madness on his face…he had not understood her jest? She was going to explain, then. She had to. Even though she would've readily gone along with quite close to anything for the benefit of staying in his arms forever, this _had to_ be said. For what little of her pride she had left now…

"That…" She heaved, " Was a joke."

At first, his features seemed to have petrified. As if time had stopped, Elizabeth gazed at him with tension, begging for his reaction not to be negative. Begging in vain, she believed. The realization settling in his mind, his look gradually grew even bleaker, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, one, brief moment she was sure he was not going to move, which filled her inside with warmth. But then, abruptly, he began to push her away.

The logical thing to do would have been to apologize and let him leave. The reasonable thing to do would have been to return to her room and sleep for a while in order to calm down. The smart thing to do would have been not to oppose him.

Then, Elizabeth had never been a cool-headed person.

So, completely illogically, unreasonably and utterly stupidly, she tightened her hold of his cloak. Illogically, unreasonably and stupidly she pulled him back closer (or, rather, moved closer to him).

Illogically, unreasonably, stupidly, she kissed him with all the passion her heart could've spawned.

**There, they kissed! And hence the name of this chapter. I had to hurry up the Guy/Elizabeth relationship a little bit...the point of the story is kind of that they almost instantly liked each other, but were set apart by cruel destiny...a.k.a. Ines&Vaysey hehehe. :) REVIEW; please! I want to hear anything at all you might desire to say.**

Will update within the week!


	3. Plotting & Scheming

**Chapter Three**

He had kissed her back.

The he had turned around, looking deep into her eyes with a glare she could not have interpreted, whirling around and walking away towards the castle.

Leaving her alone, light-headed, stunned, astonished, dizzy and, most importantly, without a single tear left. Happiness, the butterlifes that were supoosed to come together with such a kiss had fit into the emptiness that had pained her like missing pieces of a puzzle-as if they had been what had been missing for this entire time.

Elizabeth was shocked beyond all measures that she had actually done that. That she had actually pressed her lips against his. She hardly knew him, he was engaged to Ines(not even repeating that made her suddenly increasing mood worsen), he was angry with her and cold towards her generally, yet she, who had always, always, always waited for the man to make the first step, had been the one to _kiss him. _The surreality of it made it hard for her to believe she had actually been through it, that it had not been just a figment of her imagination.

What made exhilaration flood her and have her raising her hands to her lips, careful not to touch them so his taste would not go away, was that he had returned the kiss almost immediately. Like in a dream.

So many unlikely events had come crashing upon her in the short time she had spent here. Honestly, she felt as if she had spent a whole year, not barely a day in Nottingham. A day, during which she had beem rescued by a man, who had gotten engaged to her so-called friend, but she had fallen in love with him and kissed him. _They_ had kissed.

Was it love? _Yes, _Elizabeth thought as she began to head back inside, vaguely aware of her movement at all, _Yes, it is. _Not once in her lifetime had she acted as out of character for her as she had now. None of the men she'd known had held her interest for more than a few moments after they had found themselves another woman or had merely given her up. Guy differed from them. He _was_ different.

Even though he most probably did not give damn about her, too, she still loved him. Oh, she did make herself believe he did feel something for her, that he had, after all, kissed her back, subconsciously she knew it was untrue. Kissing did not mean loving. It only meant he considered her attractive enough.

Which was, she mused, her grin growing wider, quite a lot. To think that Ines had not kissed him yet, and SHE had! What a sweet, difficult secret to keep. Enchanted by the vast surges of joy, she dropped onto her bed, too elated to do anything but what her heart desired. No longer did she have to fear of waking up to a sad world-she would think about him not returning LOVE some other time. The only thing she had to fear of right now, as she drifted off to sleep, was that when she next opened her eyelids she would find all of this had been but a dream.

* * *

"Don't you even wonder _why,_ Gisborne?"

The Sheriff's brisk tone was shrouded by an annoyance of a sort as his lines suddenly sprang from his mouth, not expected in the least. Guy raised an eyebrow, looking away from the window where his eyes had been before. Through the window, he was offered a spectacular view of the lake where the Lady Horvat had kissed him only a few hours ago. And where he had returned that kiss.

It must have been the wine-it had been his first thought after he'd separated from her. The wine he had drunk during the ball in order to endure Lady Ines. Why else would he have kissed the woman instead of pushing her away? She was pretty, perhaps even beautiful, but that hardly meant anything. He had only just lost Marian. And he was not the kind of man to begin feeling—

Wait. Who had ever said one needed to feel something in order to kiss someone? He had merely been caught off guard, because he'd been tired. He'd been tired, she'd looked attractive and it had happened. It had been an accident. _Nothing more than an accident. _

Steering his mind away from other matters, such as why had he come as close to her for her to be able to press her lips against his, he shifted his attention to the Sheriff and got around answering his question.

"Why, my Lord?"

Irritated further by the tonelessness of his voice, Vaysey let his hand fall loudly against the desk.

"Why did I pick Lady Ines instead of Lady Elizabeth, for God's sake! How long does it take for you to begin thinking?"

Trying his hardest to ignore the anger and not to give in to the desire to hit Vaysey, Guy was also suddenly haunted by a question: Why was he mentioning Lady Elizabeth at all? _Had he seen them? _

His eyes quickly darted back to the window and, to his utter horror, the place where he and Lady Elizabeth had stood such a short time ago was clearly visible.

_Perhaps he hadn't seen anything. Perhaps he mentioned her by accident—_

"What are you looking at ?" The Sheriff spat, "Answer me!"

Slightly relieved, putting back on his emotionless mask, he turned back.

"Do you have any intention of telling me why, my Lord?" He asked coldly.

Both of Vaysey's eyebrows arched over his eyes, as he cocked his head. For a few seconds, he stood like that, the realization of Guy not planning to beg him or even ask him for his reasons for choosing his fiancee sinking in. Anger flashed through his eyes, after that annoyance, and then he grinned forcedly, straightening.

"You will know soon." Then, the fury at losing any conflict, no matter how minor, broke through his disguise, "Get out, now!" He yelled at Guy, "I have work to do!"

Nodding, Guy obeyed, turning around and beginning to walk away. A few steps before the door, he was again stopped by the words coming from behind him.

"Gisborne…" There was malice in the voice, not meant for him, but for someone else, only mentioned in the continuation, "I'll only say that a bait for Robin Hood has been placed in this castle a_lread_y."

No matter how time he devoted to it, Guy could not have seen what that had to do with Lady Ines. In the end, he decided that Vaysey was losing his mind or becoming senile, and ceased giving the matter any thought.

* * *

"Elizabeth, I am so excited!"

With a moan, Lady Elizabeth was woken, her first reaction being covering her head with the covers and burying it deeper into the pillow. There, relatively safe of the unnerving voice, she let the memorioes of before she'd gone to sleep flod her. Instantly, her mood improved and her companion's voice suddenly stopped being as annoying as before.

She had kissed him. He had kissed her. Not Ines, but her, Elizabeth, even though he was engaged to Ines.

Automatically, her hands flew to her lips, and her fingertips trailed over them, still feeling his caressing them. Color rushed to her face, accompanied by a sudden giggle that had to be muffled, so it came out like a groan. Gritting her teeth in order to avoid further such incidents, she smiled to herself, glad that Ines could not see her face.

"Elizabeth, wake up!" She was persistent. Unwillingly, Elizabeth admitted it didn't seem that difficult, doing as she said. Nothing seemed as difficult anymore. She felt as if she could've lived forever on the mere fact that Guy of Gisborne and she had kissed. And the fact that she had far more to be excited about than Ines. At least at the moment given.

"I'm up!" She put effort into decreasing the amount of thrill in her tone, "Why must you be so loud?"

"Because it's twelve!" Ines squealed. Looking at her, Elizabeth saw that she was already fully dressed, wearing a purple dress she had bought somewhere in France on their way here. A matching hood was covering her hair. Elizabeht, personally, thought she looked foolish, but was in too good a mood to make any remarks.

As for it being noon, evidently, she hardly cared.

"Really? Oh, well, I suppose we've missed breakfast!" She said lightly, pushing away from the mattress. Due to falling asleep in her dress, ballgown, she'd had a rest that had been all but comfortable. Yet it did nothing to get her down. Besides, that dress had been the one in which she had danced three dances with Sir Guy, in which he had saved her life and—

"But I am so excited!" Ines went on, clapping her hands fervolently, "Do you remember I'm getting married?"

"And your English seems to be improving." Elizabeth was surprised with the words that left her mouth. She would've gladly slapped herself once they were out-she had actually given Ines a compliment, feeding her already enormous ego. If it grew, she would not survive it, she was sure of it. Mentally kicking herself, she ignored the "Thanks, I know!"s (typical!) coming from Ines, getting up from her bed.

"I have to get ready, Ines!" This time, she had forgotten to hide her cheerfulness, most probably because she'd averted all of her attention to happy thoughts in order to ignore the self-adoring words echoing throughout the room. Ines, whose focus was diverted from herself(strangely), happened to notice.

Her huge, idiotic smile turned to a small, cunning simper.

"Elizabeth!" She spoke in mock lecturing, "What _happened_ to you yesterday? Or…" Her face smoothed out, "Are you just happy for me?"

God knew how much Elizabeth wished she could have smirked back at her and said, '_Oh, nothing, really, my dear, your fiancee and I only kissed by the lake while you were, thankfully, asleep'. _But she also enjoyed keeping that secret, the secret that could and would soothe her each and every time Ines would infuriate her. Biting on her lower lip and grinning knowingly, she shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess I'm just happy for you, my dear."

And she trotted off to the dressing room in order to wash and find heself a dress to wear.

Half an hour later, she emerged, wearing a black-and white dress with a flowing skirt, tight bodice and less decolletage than yesterday. Her hair was in an ordinary bun. A hairstyle she much preferred to the pyramids Ines knew to build on her head. When it was not hooded. The mentioned perosn was already gone, most likely picked up by her chaperone. Elizabeth would have usually held it against her, leaving without any notice, but today was not just any, usual day. Traditionally looking at herself in the mirror, a habit she had picked up as a child and never gotten rid of it, she opened the door and stepped out to the hallway, only to very nearly avoid bumping into Matilda, her chaperone.

"Matilda!" She exclaimed, taking a step back, "Whatever are you doing here?"

The question had made for one of her stupider ones, since the chaperone's duty was to escort a young lady to any events, such as even lunch. The ball had, of course, been different, since Matilda had been in the room, even though she had spoken to Elizabeth if once. Formalities had been pleased. During meals, though, all were still and sitting, so anyone would've easily noticed the absence of the guardian.

"To escort you to lunch, Lady Elizabeth." The woman replied humbly, but inflexibly. Matilda Carnan spoke flawless English, which was why she had been appointed as a chaperone to Elizabeth by Lord Horvat. She had married an Englishman and had been recently widowed, which had resulted in her return to Croatia. At the very beginning, she and Elizabeth had made a pact.

Honorable and strict, Matilda had every intention of doing the duty she was receiving a rich salary for. But, she was also reasonable and not a pesky woman. So she had agreed that they would both operate to be within the borders of convention. Which meant, translated, at the very edge of those borders. If Elizabeth was caught by Matilda when trying to undertake a stroll around Nottingham on her own, she would be reprimanded and acoomapnied by the older woman. But, if she snuck out, Matilda would not do anything at all. Needless to say, she would gladly close her eyes and ears if asked of. Meals where one exception.

"Of course." Elizabeth responded, closing the door behind her, "Let us go, then."

"My Lady, " Matilda stopped her with a slight raising of her usually calm tone, "I also must speak with you."

"Of course." Elizabeth repeated, not before turning around with slightly wideneed orbs. What was there for them to talk about? Surely she was not going to change the terms of their 'contract'. That contract was what would make it possible (if Sir Guy ever asked her such a thing, and her visceral part insisted he wasn't going to) for her to meet Guy in spite of his engagement to a certain idiot.

The black-haired woman stepped closer to Elizabeth, the whisper leaving her lips having the lady wondering if she had somehow read her thoughts.

"Sir Guy is soon to be a married man, my Lady."

The shock the statement caused came so suddenly it made the world begin moving before Elizabeth's eyes. Breathing in deeply through her nose, so it would go unnoticed, she hissed back, still hoping that the worst scenario she had in her mind had not occurred. There was still hope. There was always hope.

"I am very well aware of that, Matilda. He is engaged to Ines. Why are you saying this to me?" The high ptich of her voice had it sounding nervous and her biting on her tongue fiercely.

Matilda's look did not waver.

"You know why, my Lady. Because I have eyes that see. And your hiding place had not been one that good. Anyone could have seen what you did. Someone may have seen it. If that is the case and if they do not know of discretion, your reputation may as well be ruined, my Lady."

The respectful 'my Lady's where only there to compensate for the scolding intonation. Matilda was far too wise to enter an open confrontation with Elizabeth. She knew she could never have won that. Instead, she was always proper, but her words carried grave meaning. Meaning that Elizabeth understood-the chaperone was ready to apprise Lord Horvat of anything that compromised the reputation of the family and of the lady herself.

Just if she unsterdood, though, it hardly meant she was going to stand for it. Being ordered around by a governess, directly or indirectly, was not anything she would have consented to peacefully. Both her upbringing and her personality screamed wildly against it. So, making a half-turn to fully face Matilda, she whirred, with a steadfast expression etching over her features,

"I assure you, Matilda, you shall not see me doing anything improper with Sir Guy of Gisborne."

Careful emphasis placed on each word served to reminsice Matilda of their 'treaty'. Matilda flinched. There were certain times when she would have ended up beaten on her own territory and this was turning into one of them. She paused, pondering over whether there was anything else she could have said to turn the situation in her favor. gritting her teeth, she curtsied, murmuring,, "I only mention this for your own good." Matilda was not a woman that handled defeat well, the change in her tone showing it plainly.

"Good!" Elizabeth said brightly, acting indifference, "Thank you for your concern, I most thoroughly appreciate it. Now, let's get to lunch, shall we?" Pivoting, she walked off without waiting for any kind of an answer, leaving behind the bemused governess.

* * *

The Sheriff Vaysey had not been merciful with the seating order. More among the lines of dastardly, to be accurate. Elizabeth did not get to sit next to anyone of interest, but instead was placed to the right of Lord Deverly, who was so silent that, by now, all she had found out about him had been that-his name.

To her right, sat the Sheriff himself, placing Matilda opposite of her. Vaysey, if nothing else, had his bright moments during which he was just as talkative as an average talkative person, to put it so. On the other hand, she had gone through certain moments of him being as silent as a stone, watching …someone. That was the problem-his eyes darted around so much it might have just as well been her and the man in the farthest corner of the room.

_He _hadn't appeared. Not that she ahd expected to talk to him or anything similar. Well, all right, she had, not expected but hoped. In vain, plainly. And so idiotically. Truly, why would he talk to her? Reasons that had been obvious to her an hour or so ago now stood so simple in their ridiculousness. The same was with her thoughts of being in love before. If Sir Guy had wanted to tell her anything, he would have done so yesterday, without leaving so abruptly. And he would've most certainly appeared here today, but putting that aisde---what was there to say?

She'd run the scenario of their conversation in her head for numerous times, as if preparing to play her role perfectly. But her arguments were, even though righteous, so puny-sounding that she felt color in her cheeks at the mere thought of them ._I demand to know why you returned my kiss, Sir Guy? _As if she was desperate! _I demand you marry me right off, Sir Guy, _would that be next?

The more she repeated it, the worse it seemed.

At least Ines had been positioned far away from her, next to some minor Lord or another. She was not in a good mood, most likely because of the absence of _her _fiancee, so she resorted to being silent and poking about her plate. For a couple of times, she had smiled at Elizabeth, who'd forcedly returend the gesture.

And at least the food was passable.

"Have you heard anything from your father, Lady Elizabeth?"

The Sheriff broke one of his longer silences, piercing her with his eyes. His question was rather predictable to her. Lord Horvat had promised another donation to the Sheriff in his letter(which had been private, but Elizabeth had found her way around that detail, reading it), soon. Vaysey and his greed obviously were not fond of patience.

Well, it gave her something to talk about. Elizabeth did not like having to invent new topics too often.

"Not yet, my Lord." She chimed with a smile, "But I do hope to, soon. When I left Croatia, it was not in such a perfect state."

"Oh?" Vasey's interest diminished slightly, but the matter still kept his attention, "And what do you mean by that?"

"Rebellions, my Lord." His head turned back to her suddenly at the mention, "Outlaws rebel, unhappy with the Hungarian rule over the land."

"And who would they place as the ruler, if they had it their way?"

Elizabeth disliked him interrupting her, so she closed her mouth back and sighed slightly, a fire in her eyes, "I was getting to that part. That is where their idiocy lies. They do not know who or what they want. They only know that they, out of reasons purely superficial, do not wish to be ruled by a Hungarian. They hardly care for the country, only for some stupid sense of patriotism or honor they uphold. If the current King did step down, which he is not about to do, they woud have no one to claim the empty throne, and all that would result in would be chaos."

The Sheriff stared back at her, since she had not moved her eyes from his for longer than a few seconds during her longer explanation. He seemed to radiate with a strange kind of surprise and astonishment, as he slowly bit on her lower lip, thinking of something. Recovering from her moments of enthusiasm, that so often came to her, she began to wonder had she said something wrong, or too much, or anything like that. Why else would he be glaring at her like this--?

"Interesting. Tell me, my Lady, have you heard of Robin Hood?"

Robin Hood? What did Robin Hood have to do with anything, now? Oh, of course-he was the outlaw and the rebel here, to these people. Elizabeth had to admit she had never quite taken him nor his men for serious. They were more like clowns to her than a threat. But at least she was being given the opportunity to talk. He was as good a topic as any.

"Yes, I have. As a matter of fact, " Her look jumped briefly to Ines, "On our way here, Lady Ines kept stressing over him attacking us. Frankly," She smirked, "I've never quite seen him as a formidable danger."

The hidden insult conveyed to the Sheriff, one she had not even meant, told him that he was a weakling for not being able to handle Hood. Elizabeth only realized what she had said after it was already out. Biting her tongue, she stopped herself from amending her words. What was said was said. She would not draw back.

Vaysey's face reddened slightly and he took a hasty sip from his goblet before raising his eyebrows at her, "Not a formidable danger?" His voice took on a vile undertone, "Then how do you explain the fact that myself and my men have not yet rid of him?"

"Cunning, my Lord." Elizabeth smiled boldly, "Tricks. Hood uses tricks and disguises in order to gain advantage. He does not attack openly, but he sneaks into the Castle and strikes from within. He does so during night, when a great majority of guards are either asleep or not as alert as they are in daylight. The land favors him, as does the forest-he knows them better than his own backyard…actually, they are his backyard. With the current state of affairs…he is, I would say, rather invincible, if he is not dangerous."

"Rather?" Elizabeth began to wonder if the Sheriff's eyebrows could arch any higher, "But not completley, my Lady?"

"No, not completely."

"So what brilliant strategy," He taunted mockingly, but smoothly, "Does m'lady have in mind, eh? One that has not been tried out by me or my men? Would you enlighten your formidable Sheriff?"

"With pleasure." Elizabeth's smile switched from pleasant to sinister. If there was one thing she could not tolerate, it was being taunted. A ferocity entering her eyes, she continued, expectation within her growing together with anger. At least she was having fun-she, indeed, drew a strange kind of pleasure from this, "Strike back his way. Stoop to his level. You, if I observed correctly, attack Hood with force, repeatedly and are unsuccesful, repeatedly. Instead of sending hordes of men against him, cannonballs and swords, do something different. Something he would not expect. Be unpredictable. Send a spy. A woman, disguised in rags, that would claim all of her belongings were taken by the cruel Sheriff and his people. A woman, that would be allowed to merely stay the night at the camp of the outlaws, and murder Hood in his sleep. Swfit and simple. Beat him on his own territory…_my formidable Sheriff_."

The Sheriff looked as if someone had slapped him with a wet cloth across his face. For a few moments there, Elizabeth was confident he would faint. Or at least suffer a stroke. Had she not known any better, she would've deduced right away that he was a man whose entire life…or at least an important part of it, had changed in a matter of milliseconds. Perhaps this was the fruition of her words-that made her feel fine. Maybe she would be remembered as the woman who gave a stroke to the Sheriff Vaysey of Nottingham. Certainly a reputation to her liking.

With anticipation, she watched him as he began to collect himself. She felt no fear, though, only thrill. Steadily, he seemed to come back to this world, blinking once and then opening his mouth, only to shut it right back. He repeated that for a few seconds, then finally speaking, his voice dark…but surprisingly taken. He must have wodnered how a woman, a mere woman, could have said something as smart and as sharp. She must have impressed him.

"You, lady Elizabeth, have certainly been nurtured finely. I commend your father. As I commend yourself."

With that, leaving her completely dumbfounded, he raised and left the room. Oh, his reply had not been all that confsuing-but as he pushed away from his chair and began to walk out, the entire hall turned silent. It must have been unusual, him leaving this early. Then again, the moment he left, everyone was back to cheerful chatting. Vaysey, she recalled, was known as an unpredictable person. Still, the sudden leave after their little talk made her ponder over something. As she returned to the contents of her plate, Elizabeth could not get away from the impression that the Sheriff of Nottingham was up to something large, that concerned and involved her.

Until the end of lunch, she had not once thought of Sir Guy of Gisborne.

* * *

"She will not be an unaware or an unwilling bait." Vaysey sounded more than just pleased with himself as he murmured, "On the contrary, Gisborne…she shall help us with delight."

Guy, who had finally been told of this plan, merely shrugged his shoulders, knowing that there was no reason whatsoever for him to _care_ about anything save for the success of the venture.


	4. That And This

**Chapter Four**

Marian of Knighton had not been quite interested in meeting the new ladies that had arrived to Nottingham before the egnagement between Lady Ines Novak and Sir Guy of Gisborne, her own ex-fiancee, had been announced. Not that she held any hard feelings for the Lady, oh, that no. She only felt pity for the poor woman that had been, probably, forced to marry Guy, as she had been. Only that Lady Ines seemed to show a far greater amount of enthusiasm than herself had. In which case, she merely wasn't aware of what was in store for her.

True, Guy had never cruelly abused her or even mistreated her, while she was good to him. But that was _her,_ as vain as it may have sounded. She had been the woman Guy had, obviously, loved. And he loved her still. He was not going to tolerate another woman he had probably never wanted to marry in the first place. So, out of the _regret_ she felt for Lady Ines, she was now in the courtyard of Nottingham Castle, standing before the bench where the mentioned woman sat.

She was not a beauty, it was the first thing Marian noticed, and it did not surprise her-even if subconsciously, appearances actually caught one's eye first. But she was a passable looking woman, she had to admit that much. Not that it was any trouble admitting to Guy's fiancee being pretty. Well, not actually pretty---

Oh, what was she bothering herself with! Who cared, really, if the woman was pretty or not? Smiling at the lady, who had raised her head, Marian decided to instead focus on the kind of person she was and once again remembered how sorry she felt for the trouble she would undoubtedly endure. Nodding at Ines, she greeted in a tone that was supposed to sound cheerful, but came out as strange, to her, at least.

"Good day to you, Lady Novak! I am Lady Marian of Knighton. I thought I should meet the Lady…" She finished in a more serious tone, her smile losing on intensity slightly, "…who is to marry Sir Guy of Gisborne."

Even though she had been rather obvious, Ines had not noticed it. Instead, the moment she mentioned Guy, she grinned widely, nodding her head, "Oh, yes! Please, sit. I am very happy to meet you."

Marian took the offer, heeding the dress Ines had worn-a yellow-and-purple one, with no decolletage and skirts that were not exactly wide. The hood she'd seen on her head for a few times was not there now…Marian was half-tempted to ask her where had it disappeared.

"I am so happy to be getting marry to Sir Guy." Ines went on and Marian was taken aback when she so openly bragged to her, "I know he could chosen a lot of other ladies, but he chose me! And I am happy!"

Disregarding the grammar errors she had made, Marian had understood the sentence. And the amount of desire to tell Ines that Guy had been forced to marry her, that he had not done any choosing, was rather overwhelming. Why did Marian find this woman so _annoying_? She had met brides who bragged about their fiancees before…but those fiancees had not been Guy of Gisborne. Meaning, she added to herself quickly, that the woman had nothing to brag about. Of course. What else could it have been?

"It is good that you are happy. Have you, however, gotten to know your fiancee well?" She inquired carefully, steering onto the topic she wished to discuss and the point she wished to make.

"Oh, of course, of course!" Ines' grin grew wider, "I have. We spent entire night…the entire night…together."

Marian's eyes widened and she was positive the surprise on her face could've been noticed by a beggar. What was she saying? Had she just openly admitted to--? That she and Guy had…so soon? The impact of that realization hit her so hard she barely remained sitting straight, swooning ever so slightly. What kind of a whore had replaced her in- - -?

"I believe she wanted to say 'entire evening'. Or, even better, the entire party."

Both Marian and Ines turned their heads abruptly to the right, from where the new voice was coming. It was accompanied by not only one pair of feet, but two, Marian discerned right away with the help of her gift for details. Well, not exactly her gift-it was something Robin had taught her. But she most certainly had not recognized the voice that had spoken, only the silent cackle that came not from the same person and that followed the explanation. Her shock decreased, but only in the back of her mind where it had transferred upon encountering the sight of a woman in purple she recognized as Lady Elizabeth Horvat and Sheriff Vaysey, walking towards them.

Marian was aware of the large sums of money Lady Horvat's father had been sending to the Sheriff, but she had not realized they were large enough for Vaysey to actually walk next to a woman without a trace of contempt on his face. Marian, herself, did not care what the Sheriff thought of her, but she had overheard him referring to her using the word 'leper' more than once when talking to Guy. In her presence, he had always acted as if someone had placed something stinky underneath his nose. She did not care, only wondered, why was this Lady Elizabeth so different? Something strange was going on, and she felt it had to do with more than just gold.

Ines pursed her lips and bent her head a bit, looking at the floor and then at Elizabeth, who, Marian noted, was prettier than her. And obviously more skilled at English, for she believed there was no amount of money that could've made Vaysey spend a moment of time with a woman he could not understand. On the other hand, he was known for tremendous greed..

"I said that. Didn't…I?" Ines' voice sounded insecure. Elizabeth chuckled, glancing at the Sheriff sideways, before clearing the matter up in a cheerful and a loud tone.

"Dear Ines, you just told this poor lady that you and Sir Guy have already slept together!"

Marian bolted again, surprised by the boldness. Did she not know that she'd said something terribly inappropriate? Ines, embrassed, reddened and murmured an apology, while Vaysey laughed out loud. Marian, not knowing what to do, smiled uncomfortably, raising from her seat which was suddenly uncomfortable.

"Sheriff Vaysey." She greeted quickly, looking away from him as soon as it was possible, shifting her attention to Elizabeth, "You must be Lady Elizabeth. Thank you for…" She hesitated, "..the translation."

"It was no problem, really." Elizabeth smiled politely, "And I gather you are Lady Marian of Knighton?"

"Yes." She should not have been surprised-the ladies had spent three weeks already here in Nottingham. They must have asked some questions and found out who the basic people were. A lot of gossip concerning her must have reached them, "How have you been enjoying Nottingham these days?"

"It's very lovely!" Lady Horvat said eagerly, turning her head to glance at the Sheriff, "The Sheriff was just telling me of all the nobles that have visited it so far this year. I was, in fact, hoping to go riding one of these days."

"The countryside i_s _beautiful. You should do that."

"Oh, I shall." Elizabeth nodded, pausing slightly before continuing in the same carefree manner, "The Sheriff was also telling me about King Ri---"

"That…would be enough, my Lady." Vaysey sounded abruptly, sending a look of warning at Elizabeth, who returned with one of bemusement and questioning. Then, as if suddenly realizing something, she looked back at Marian and smiled another smile, just as the Lady of Kinghton flinched, asking in shock;

"What were you about to say, Lady Horvat?"

No. This was impossible. The Sheriff surely hadn't told anything about King Richard to this foreign woman.

"Nothing at all." Elizabeth looked at Ines, who must've missed out on parts of the conversation, her voice colder, "I think that I must talk with the Sheriff in private…if you would excuse us, of course."

As the two of them left again, Marian excused herself as well, claiming she had a headache. In reality, she did not retreat to her quarters, but instead ran to the stables. She intended to undertake a riding trip far sooner than Lady Elizabeth.

"That was quite a move you've just played! In future, though, inform me of your plans before taking actions, won't you?"

The 'won't you' was obviously there for mocking purposes solely. Right now, Elizabeth did not mind it. She was feeling too much accomplishment over what she had just done, especially after she saw from the window of the Sheriff's Office Marian riding away at the speed of light…or Thunder, more exactly, for that was the name of the horse she had taken.

The last three weeks had elapsed very quickly for her. Or, to be precise, the last two, for it was two weeks ago that she had been summoned by Vaysey to his office, where he and Sir Guy had awaited.

It had been the first time she had seen him after their kiss. After him evidently doing his hardest in order to avoid her, she had felt quite unpleasant upon encountering him again and having to be practically alone with him in the room. Unluckily or luckily, he had not said a word to her-all the talking had been taken over by the Sheriff.

"_We have chosen to present a business proposal to you. There'll be a lot in it for you. Or not. It depends on you and that 'brilliant strategic mind of yours'. It's a matter concerning Robin Hood. Originally, me, myself and I've intended for you to be a bait for Robin Hood, but an unaware one. Now, since we've gotten to see a little bit more of you, we think you'd be more useful if you knew what you were doing. What do you say?"_

Her first thought had been what kind of danger did the plan represent, but she would've died sooner than asking that before all. So, instead, she'd said, _"What kind of plan are you proposing?"_

Saying no had been quite out of question, for numerous reasons. Number one, her desire for an adventure, which was rather childish, but who cared! Number two, saying no would've made her regret acting like a coward…and she would've spent the rest of her days imagining what could have been. That was one of the things she despised most.

Also, subconsciouslly, but with enough consciousness to be aware of it, a part of Elizabeth desired to be on the same side as the man she had kissed that morning, in a way more complete than just being the daughter of the Lord who donated money to the cause. The fact he had said there would be a lot in it for her had not played a more significant role. It made her feel important.

So, as the Sheriff had relayed to her the plan, waiting for Hood to appear in the castle and then luring him somehow, she had eagerly proposed not waiting for Hood, but arranging for his arrival, therefore having an edge over him. Annoyed by the fact she'd said it before him, the Sheriff had said '_We'll see that as we move along. For now, we wait'. _They had been like that, waiting, until this very moment.

"You have to admit I was brilliant, my Lord." She added coyly, turning away from the window and moving towards the table in the same way, "Now, Hood is going to be waiting for me to take that riding trip…the lady of Kinghton shall undoubtedly try to persuade me to choose a certain date for that. The date on which he and his men shall be waiting for me and they shall, I gather, capture me."

Toying with his quill, Vaysey looked up at her with a diabolical glare, "Naturally. And then, you'll kill him at the earliest convenience, pretending to cooperate…or doing whatever your 'brilliant mind' tells you to."

"Precisely." Elizabeth smiled certainly, ignoring the unpleasant feeling that was beginning to form in her gut. Oh, it had nothing to do with Vaysey's jest-she'd gotten used to that.

It had to do with the fact that she was not feeling all that sure and good about murdering this outlaw, just as she was feeling insecure about the entire plot. Oh, she kept reassuring herself and all around her she was firm, of course, that she could easily be heartless and cold and that she was no emotional weakling. She found that she could've hardly waited to prove that upon killing Hood…if not to anyone else, than to herself. Then again, she did not want for that moment to ever come, dreading the day she would be willingly captured by a gang of outlaws and wondering what had she gotten herself into.

_But it is coming. And you shall do it. You are brave. You are not like Ines._

She repeated to herself, just then hearing two firm knocks on the door.

"That must be Gisborne." Elizabeth swallowed uncomfortably, her smile fading at the mention of that name, "I sent for him. Come in!"

Guy entered, a look of irritation on his face. He barely skimmed Elizabeth with his glance, coldly, before walking up to Vaysey's desk and shooting daggers at him with his glare.

"My lord, I've seen Lady Marian ride out just a few moments ago, surely to visit Robin Hood. I was dispatching men to follow and seize her. But I was stopped by a messenger, claiming that you have forbidden such a thing. May I ask why, my Lord?" He growled, finally coming to a halt.

Elizabeth had not, despite working for him now, in a way, made much contact with Sir Guy lately. Actually, they hadn't spoken much. To be blunt, they had not spoken a single word. Each and every time there'd be an opportunity present to amend that, he would've avoided it, so eventually, she had begun hiding all her interest in the opposite occurring. Who was she, a lady or some whore that couldn't have had any other man and was obsessed with him? When she recalled all her foolish thoughts of love not so long ago, she barely withheld a snort. She did not love him. And even if he told her he would love her until he died, she would have refused him now.

"Relax, Gisborne. She has gone to see Hood and she shall come back."

The matter-of-fact way in which he said that drove madness into Guy's eyes and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Perhaps you don't understand, my Lord," He hissed dangerously, "Marian-has-gone-to-_Hood_!" He shouted out the last word with all the disdain he could have fathomed, "If we follow her, there is still time to catch Hood!"

"The only thing you might catch out there is some stupidity, and you already have it in abundance, Goddamnit!" Vaysey raised his tone as well, making Elizabeth strangely annoyed by him and wondering why on Earth did Guy stand for that, "If I say something, you do that something! The leper running to her outlaw is a part of our plan." Elizabeth was sure that with 'our', he had been referring to himself in plural, but then, at her utter astonishment, he inclined at her, adding, " She will explain."

Guy seemed to, just as herself, be very well-aware of the fact that they were about to look into each other's eyes for the first time ever since…then. But he, as she noticed with a corner of her eye, for she dared not be the first one to look at him, purely out of pride, also seemed to be approaching it with abandon. They stood like that for a couple of seconds, she glaring at the desk and spying at him, he sending lightning bolts towards the sheriff with his look. Vaysey, thankfully, was not looking at Elizabeth, more focusing on Guy and his mood.

"For heaven's sake, Gisborne, turn around, look at the woman and let her begin speaking!" He said with ire, impatiently. His jaw clenching visibly, Guy squared his shoulders, raised his head and slowly began turning towards her. Taking in a deep breath, her stomach tying itself into a knot, Elizabeth did the same, jutting out her chin and travelling with her eyes along his torso, until they reached his.

This was it. A moment she had feared so much, expected even more and wondered about the most. Finally breathing out, Elizabeth found herself strangely untoucehd by it. Some weeks ago, the thought of it would've made her heartebat increase to painful. Some days ago, it would have made her content. A few seconds ago, she had been afraid of it and now, when it was occurring, she felt quite even. The only thing that struck her as she'd expected all to was that she had forgotten how blue his eyes were.

Her pause had perhaps lasted a moment longer than it should've and once she realized that, she began amending it fiercely. This man had chosen Ines over her, had he not? Well, now, he was about to see just who he had lost. A swell of pride overcoming her, she began her explanation under the furious stare of Sir Guy.

"The Sheriff and I had been walking in the courtyard, discussing certain matters." A flare of surprise gathered in his eyes and she smirked inwardly-there was no need to indulge his curiosity and specify these matters, "We encountered Lady Ines, your fiancee," A curt expression overtook him. Elizabeth contemplated briefly over what that could have meant, him disliking Ines or him disapproving of her mentioning her or something third, "And Lady Marian. As we began conversing with them, I considered it handy to mention my wish to explore the surroundings of Nottingham, so Lady Marian would perhaps inform Robin Hood of it, resulting in him attempting to rob me. But, since her reaction was hardly pleasing and hardly showed my plan coming to fruition in any nearer future, I recalled another thing I considered _wise. _'By accident', I mentioned that the Sheriff had been telling me about the King Richard…and his Lordship, of course, took the hint and stopped me from speaking further." She nodded at Vaysey with a grin, "Now, Lady Marian is on her way to inform Robin Hood that I happen to know something about the King. And his whereabouts and your plans for him. The way things are now, I am certain to be ambushed by him and his outlaws, taken to their camp…where I shall, once the time is right, kill him."

Coming to an end, she closed her mouth, looking firmly at Guy. It took her a bit to be able to look into his eyes, but she managed. He still looked the same; stiff, displeased, angered, furious. However, if she wasn't mistaken, something else was beginning to show-dsibelief? And was that…distaste?

Guy had known of the basics of the plan for some time now-Lady Elizabeth being the one to get rid of Hood. The ingeniosity of such a plan couldn't have been denied. It was swift, intelligent and seemingly easy. So, he did not why exactly did he have so much trouble being deligthed at this new twist. It must have had to do with the fact that, when he had once given it better thought, he had come to the conclusion that it was too risky for one, simple reason-placing so much trust in a Lady.

Women, as experience had taught him(he wondered why the Sheriff had paid so little attention to the point he usually accentuadted most), tended to let one down. Lady Elizabeth was far from a trained combatant. Guy was not certain she could have handled a sword. Even though she was trying to present herself to the world as fierce, even dangerous, Guy felt as if he was completely oblivious to her mask. Not that he had ever spoken too many words with her. But that encounter at the stairway had told him more than he would've found it possible. Elizabeth, in his opinion, was a fiery woman with a lot of pride, fierce reactions and a temper. But she was not the corageous ice queen she so often tried to be. He did not believe her a coward, but he was sure it would've taken a very important motive to make her_ truly_ unafraid. For the rest of the time, she hid her fears, sometimes well and sometimes poorly. Her trembling when she'd landed into his arms, then her tears later on…it proved the person she represented herself to be inaccurate.

It was eeire that he now remembered that he had never found out why she'd been crying. He probably was not going to. But that triggered the arrival of other recollections; recollections of whom he had accused of hurting her.

Even at this moment, he could've still felt the anger rising in his chest when she'd made him so naively believe Hood had actually done something to her. _That_ moment, that day, he had nearly felt ready to kill. He had actually thought that Hood had been so close to him, and had escaped him. oHYet, despite the fact Elizabeth's plan was one way of disposing of Robin Hood, as far-fetched as it objectively was, he felt very repulsed by the idea of deliberately sending her into his hands.

Maybe she did still remind him of Marian, hence his displeasure with it. Whatever the reasons were, logic was on his side, too. As he intended to explain to Vaysey.

"My lord," He hissed, removing his eyes from Elizabeth, "I do not believe this plan to be wise."

"Hah!" Vasey's vocie was high-pitched as he hit his plam against the desk, "Nobody's been asking for your opinion, Gisborne! You will simply do as I say. "

"My lord—" Guy began again, not getting to finish, for Elizabeth butt in.

"Sir Guy, what _exactly is_ wrong with the plan?"

Why did he not like it? Did he find her incompetent? Did he believe there was no way she could have done this? Oh, how she was going to! Now, nobody would stop her! She would show this man what kind of a woman she was, and then she would walk away, leaving him stuck with his pathetic little wife-to-be.

Spinning his head towards her, he did not hesitate a second before beginning to explain.

"The plan is perfect. But it is its executor that requires polishing. And a lot of it."

Elizabeth felt as if someone had petrified her with some dark magic. So he did believe her incompetent, and he had the audacity to say something like that out loud? In front of her? In her face? How could she have ever thought this man to be a gentleman? If a short time ago, a _half_ of her had hoped for him to manage talking the Sheriff out of this, she was now so extremely glad the other half had made her intervene.

Guy was gazing at her, waiting for her reaction. She swallowed. What could she say? She had to respond to this. Such an insult could not have been just ignored! A long time ago, Elizabeth had been a person, or more a child, that had let people say all kinds of things to her and get by unpunished. But then she had vowed-never again. And that was one vow she kept true to and would keep true to for all times. Her God was her oath. As her name meant.

"If you are so quick to judge my plan," She retorted haughtily, "Then, how comes you have not once been capable of thinking of any kind of plan yourself?"

Guy raised his eyebrow, rage beginning to form within him. He did not like being talked back to. The only one with the right of that around Nottingham was the Sheriff. Certainly not a foreign Lady that was intent on putting into motion murder, while a mere fall down the stairs made her shiver. He found it hard to believe he had once thought her to be an intriguing woman. Was it, indeed, luck that the Sheriff had picked Lady Ines for him?

"I haven't judged your plan, but yourself, m'lady." He snapped, "How on Earth do you intend to kill Robin Hood?"

"Using a sharp, little thing called a knife, Sir Guy. You would not happen to be acquanited with that weapon? I assure you, I am perfectly capable of handling _that_." She spat right back at him.

"Enough, enough!" The Sheriff stopped any more insults coming out of each of them, "Get out, both of you, now. Lady Elizabeth, practice handling the knife just in case. Gisbrone, the plan _will _be put into motion. Off you go!"

They both looked at him, then glared at each other, but obeyed.

"Sir Guy, what has made you angry?" Ines clung to his arm, batting her eyelashes. Today, she had worn a black-and-white attire, attempting to show off some cleavage. She had succeeded, but Guy did not find it anything his eyes particularly enjoyed.

All that aside, currently, he found his fiancee preferable to Lady Horvat, so he gritted his teeth and ignored the urge to hurl her across the hall, instead answering rather truthfully; "Lady Elizabeth, I believe."

"Ah!" She exclaimed, "She can be…angeritating?"

Guy had no idea what that word meant, and he was more than just annoyed by what he thought to be complete stupidity on her side. Then he reminded himeself that she, at least, was not pretending to be anything else than she was. No, she was doing that, but in the way she was supposed to be-she tried to show herself as the perfect, gentle lady. Elizabeth was aiming for the opposite effect.

"Irritating." He amended her mistake coldly, "Though I cannot imagine why would we waste our time discussing her."

"Oh." Ines seemed somewhere between pleased and taken aback, "Well-of course." Then she grinned; "My wedding attrire---"

Guy did not bother to amend her mistake again, so he let her babble, his dark thoughts focusing on the plan that had been given Vaysey's blessing a week ago. The plan that, despite its executors inefficiency, was to occur tomorrow.

Yesterday, the Lady Of Knighton(he avoided the use of the name 'Marian' as much as it was possible) had extended an invitation for Lady Elizabeth to go riding around the countryside with her. Elizabeth agreed, settling for Wednesday, which was, at the present time, tomorrow. They would, of course, be accompanied by Elizabeth's chaperone and some guards. None of it would, he thought gloomily, have stopped Hood even if it was not in their intetion to have the infernal woman captured. Or at least it had not before. If only he had been given more competent guards. Then there would have been no need for Elizabeth at all.

A few hours ago, he had informed her, after the meeting with the Sheriff, how he had no intention of coming to her rescue when she incompetently and stupidly got herself killed with her idiotic clumsiness…or worse. Yes, in those exact words. It had not been his fault that she had spent the hour in the Sheriff's office annoying him, with her straight posture and the bold look on her face and all that act.

To that, she had replied that he would be the one requiring rescue if he ever dared talk to her with such disrespect again. Then she had turned around, knocking over a vase with her hand and swearing as he did when he was in the worst of his moods.

What was it possibly that could have come over him when he had kissed _that_?

"And you could have some pink on you, too, when we are marrying!"

Ah.

The fact that he had, prior to doing it, found out he was to marry _this._


	5. One Day, Soon

**NOTE: **_Yep, I'm back. Sorry for the long wait, I lost my muse, which is now back, fully restored. :))) Here's the new chapter, in which Elizabeth's plan is finally executed. The plan, and someone else... ;))))_

_Enjoy!_

_P.S.-yeah, those words in italics are actual Croatian. I'll include a translation at the end, fear not. :))))_

**Chapter Five**

Elizabeth hated being treated with disdain and she hated being looked down upon. Which was why she hated Guy of Gisborne. To think how close she had been to completely adoring him-and she still would have been, if he only had not gotten himself engaged to Ines Novak and proved to be the most irritating man on Earth. Elizabeth liked arrogance in a man, she liked strength and she despised obvious weakness. Cruelty was devilishly attractive, aye.

But her pride would never let her look with the eyes of an enamoured fool at the man who despised her. No matter how cruel, handsome, arrogant and attractive he was, he was offending her and all her principles. It was hard to hide traces of clear hope that they would happen to fall for each other eventually from herself, but she tried her hardest to do her best.

_And it would hardly even impress him if I pined after him like a worm.!_

What was going to impress him was when she murdered Robin Hood in his sleep and returned to the castle, victorious and known to all. Then, he would wish he had treated her better. Or not. Either way, it was not going to matter to her, because everyone else would crave her company or fear her. Both worked for her, and Guy of Gisborne did not matter at all. She was going to be remembered and talked about as the fearsome lady, someone entirely different from his beloved Ines.

"My Ladies, might I beg for your understanding for but a few moments? I have truly not been feeling well, and I would welcome a break." Lady Marian of Knighton addressed Ines and Elizabeth, and before her sentence was even finished, Elizabeth felt her heart skip a beat. _This was it_.

This was, she thought as she followed in Ines' chiming how it was no problem at all, just as she pretended to listen carefully to the clearing 'just up ahead' Marian so earnestly described, _it._ In a matter of minutes, she would be a captive of Robin Hood, interrogated by him and his men…and in a matter of days, she would be back at the castle, Nottingham rid of the otulaw.

As they dismounted, she, pretending to be adjusting her cloak over her dark green riding dress, felt her concealed weapon-a dagger of the finest sort. Vaysey had insisted for it to be his personal weapon that disposed of Hood.

Brushing her fingers against it, Elizabeth realized it was pleasantly warm compared to them.

She steadied herself with a long breath. _I am not afraid. I do not show fear. Ever. I am strong. I am powerful. _Elizabeth repeated it like a mantra. Had she not always laughed scornfully at the ninnies that were unable to kill a man? This was an outlaw, a threat to society she had a good reason to murder. Of course, she would have done it more easily if he had ever done something to her at all. But she was not going to have a hard time doing it now, most certainly not. _I am ruthless. _And she was going to prove that.

Her plan also was not going to go wrong. Hood was not known for brutal treatment of women. Then again, she remembered how quick to believe her jape about Hood raping her Gisborne had been. What could have Gisborne known, though? Noble women were, to some extent, enchanted by him, and Marian of Knighton loved him. She did not strike her as the type of woman to love a brutal man. After all, she had left Gisborne. _He had just been sore at Hood for taking away his fiancee._ Elizabeth concluded, turning towards the other women.

"The weather has not quite favored us. It looks as if it might even rain soon." The clouds were congregating on the sky, only serving as more proof that her abduction would happen here and now. Otherwise, Marian would have surely never insisted they went along today. Elizabeth had briefly entertained the thought of insisting they remained in the castle, as their chaperones had, just to frustrate Marian. In the end, she chose the greater good over her whim. Of course. Elizabeth saw herself as very reasonable, when it came to things of importance.

"Weather is not nice often, here." Ines murmured, standing straight despite the weight of her rich blue riding cloak, "In Croatia…it is different."

"We also tend to have rainy summer days." Elizabeth added casually, finding it rather difficult to feign interest, "Besides, fall will be upon us soon."

Marian smiled pleasantly; "I do hope to visit this homeland of yours one day, when you speak so fondly of it! It sounds as quite a lovely place to spend one's summer."

"It is." Elizabeth and Ines both agreed, "The rebels are the only problem."

Elizabeth's remark made Marian's brow rise; "Rebels?"

"Yes." Lady Horvat nodded, and Ines pursed her lips in consenting, "They rob, they steal, plunder, even from innocents." What an apt moment to discuss such a thing…and it made her feel much lighter than discussing the weather-she had always found that particular topic one that was used as a tension-breaker when people had blank minds and no idea what to say.

"Rob!" Ines added in echo, "Much like your Robin Hood."

The brow of the Lady Marian went even higher, "Oh?" For the first time in weeks, Elizabeth had reason to cast a genuine smile at Ines. This was becoming rather interesting, taking at least some part of her attention. The other noticed the guards were not with them yet. They were either terribly slow, or slowed down.

"Robin Hood, as you may not know, since you are strangers, my ladies, has never killed an innocent person." Marian jutted out her chin gently, in defense of her lover, "But you must tell me more about these rebels. I am curious to---"

She did not get to finish, because an arrow swung past them with a hissing sound, disappearing in the woods. Elizabeth, recovering from the slight shock, firstly thought it was one of those foolish displays of mockery or announcment that these otulaws used, and would have nearly laughed had she not turned around in time to see a guard, a single guard, on the floor with the very same arrow in his neck.

Ines screamed.

A man was next to her in a matter of seconds, just as quite a number of them jumped from the bushes and the trees. Elizabeth was never good at estimating numbers and it hardly was of any consequence. The guards were already taken care of, and there was enough of them for the three women, no matter how strong, to have no way of promptly opposing them. Marian exclaimed with pretended surprise, as one of the men grabbed her arm and-what a play!-placed a dagger close to her throat. Elizabeth attempted to pull away from the burly one that was holding her, but he grasped her firmly with both hands and had no intention of letting go. _Good. _It was the way it was supposed to be. _The dead guard doesn't matter. I will not think of him._

"----let go! _Pustite me! Pustit me, odmah! Pustite me! Nemojte me ozlijediti, _molim_ vas_! _Nisam ništa učinilaaaaaaa_!" Ines had reverted to her mother tongue out of pure fear, and her neat bun had been destroyed completely, half the hair in it and the other half out. Tears were coming down her cheeks in streams.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Elizabeth demanded, trying to outloud her screams.

"We're Robin Hood's Merry Men." The man behind her said with a laugh, "And we want Lady Elizabeth Horvat. Which methinks would be you, ma'am."

The expected answer. She was about to ask why, when Marian beat her to it. Naturally, Marian had to appear as unsuspicious as it was possible. Elizabeth nearly let out a chuckle.

"Who are you? What do you want with Lady Horvat?" Marian asked incredulously.

The burly outlaw laughed again. With how loud his laughter was, it would be heard all the way to Nottingham Castle and the Sheriff would know their plan had been succesful, Elizabeth caught herself thinking.

"That'd be our own business, m'lady." He winced at Ines' shrieks, "We'll let you and the red one go, though. Robin Hood's men…" His eyes bore into the back of Elizabeth's skull, "Don't kill innocents."

"But they do capture them?" She retorted readily. This was going well.

"When necessary." Good-the men had begun to retreat into the woods; she could have felt her captor pulling her along, "Tell the Sheriff Robin sends him his regards! And m'lady…" The mock bow was intended for the wide-eyed Ines, "I'll have you greet Gisborne, ey?"

"You---!" Marian's fake frustration surfaced when she was freed, "I---" At a loss of words? How quaint. She ran to the disheveled Lady Novak, never letting her eyes leave the withdrawing gang. Bewilderment, shivers of fear-Marian of Knighton would have made a fine living as an actress. Ines seemed on the verge of fainting, and Elizabeth remembered an image of Sir Guy of Gisborne with such a weak wife. Maybe it was for the better; they would certainly never argue.

She felt the arm, around her throat now, tighten its hold and she inhaled sharply. They were retreating further and further into the forest, until the branches finally closed on the image of two frightened women and that dead guard that kept coming back into Elizabeth's mind. _It was not my fau---no, it was and it does not matter. _Ruthless ones were not concerned with such things.

The silence among the men lasted still, and Elizabeth felt the need to say something, if for nothing than to investigate who exactly these people were(Hood's band was large). She still needed to, despite the way it all looked now, get into a position where Hood was not suspicious of her. Surely he would not let her walk around his camp at night, unattended, otherwise!

"What do you want with me?" The words came choked out, because the man had not loosened his grip. He probably feared she would run away if he did. Marian must have told them a thing or two about her.

"Shut it, wench, and keep walkin'."

This surrpised her.

_Wench?_

She had not expected them to bow to her, but Hood's gang was not uncivil, by what she had heard! _Wench? _Would they call a respectable lady a wench if nothing was amiss?

They must have found out of her 'alleigances' to the Sheriff, she reassured herself. Yes, that must have been it.

Before she could have mustered a corageous response, shuffles were heard and two men came up behind them. They were, she remembered, at the clearing before. They must have been sent to scout—

Her eyes trailed over them and stopped at bloodied knives. She would have stopped, had her legs not continued walking mechanically. Blood--? Who was it? Was it just guards? Just guards, she hoped it was just guards—anyone else had not---?

"They're done with. And we weren't followed."

"Who?" Elizabeth was surprised at the high-pitched sound of her own voice. It was due to the strangling arm, of course. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that something eerie was going on, and that these men were acting differently than all she had heard of them would indicate. And that that blood might have easily belonged to---

Before the thought was finished, she felt her head slammed against a tree. She had not even felt the twirling, or the movement, how sudden it had been. The burly man was inches from her face, a dangerous madness in his eyes. He looked almost like---

And suddenly it dawned upon her, exactly what had occurred. Whose blood that had been, what was going on and how grave, how huge, hown ghastly, how _idiotic_ her mistake and her stupidity had been.

"You aren't Robin Hood's men." She managed firmly, but with exhasperation. The dizziness slowly began to come over her.

"We _are_." The man grinned, and she fought the impulse to close her eyes, "And we sure as hell are going to have our way with the Sheriff's, " His hand found its way into her dress and traced her collarbone, "…_leper_."

* * *

"A messenger, Milord, should be taken to Lord Horvat post haste." Matilda Carnan spoke humbly, but decisively. Then, her eyes lowered from the Sheriff's and the corners of her lips turned down, "And to Lord Novak, of course." She added with little more than a whisper.

Guy of Gisborne half-expected the Sheriff to have the woman thrown out for presuming to tell him what was to be done. Instead, Vaysey's sole response was the minor twitch of his face that showed how displeased he was.

He did have a lot to be displeased about, disregarding Mrs. Carnan.

Guy, though, had no reason whatsoever to feel any disappointment. Save for that for Marian.

Her name came to his mind, just as the image of her body, cold and damp with heavy rain that had fallen, and had not managed to wash all the blood still. She had been lying on the clearing, where he and his men had gone in order to investigate how the plan of Lady Elizabeth and Vaysey had gone, next to his fiancee, Lady Ines, who had nearly lost her mind and could not have spoken a word of English. Not that it differed much from her usual standards.

_God, that would have been good riddance._

Guy had not dismounted his horse. He had not done anything, save for barking orders at his men to take care of the bodies and to bring them to the castle, and to take care of Lady Ines. Then, he had stared at the corpse of the woman he'd loved. For a number of times, he had wished to kill her himself. Now, _Hood_ had done it for him. Part of him felt the satisfaction of revenge-she'd paid for her refusal. But the other part of him wanted to kill the outlaw for new revenge; more than ever before.

Just as he wanted to be the one to end the life of Lady Elizabeth Horvat, whose fault this entire thing had been.

"Gisborne!" Vaysey snapped at him, and Guy's eyes flew to the Sheriff, "Do not begin gloating _yet_. The plan has not failed."

Guy started at him as if the Sheriff had lost his mind. Had he, truly, discussing this matter, the plan, in front of Matilda Carnan? Then he looked at where she had been and saw she was gone. Inwardly, he shook his head.

"The plan has not failed?" The question was directed at the Sheriff with a heavy dose of cynicism, "The Lady…of Knighton is dead. Hood has probably done away with Lady Elizabeth as well." He nearly spat the name, "So--"

"_Hood_?" Vaysey's eyes nearly left his head," Hood? Gisborne, Goddamn it, are you daft?"

"Milord?"

Ire grew within Guy. He hated Vaysey and how long it took the damned man to say one, simple sentence and make a single point. Currently, it was even more difficult to comprehend what he was saying than it usually was, "_Who else_ could it have been but Hood?"

The Sheriff waved his hand imperiously, walking over towards the window, and then back to the table, laughing scornfully and muttering something under his breath for the entire time. Guy found that it took him tremendous efforts not to take out his sword and stab him. But he needed to hear the explanation first, one way or another.

"The plan---was not really the one Lady Elizabeth had proposed." There was a self-satisfied grin on the stubbled face, "That is, _I_ had wonderfully led her to believe that we were doing what she wanted us to do, and then I just changed the plan…which was good, for a leper's one…a bit."

Guy frowned, craning an eyebrow; "And this would mean that the men who did the killing were, if not Hood…?" He asked icily.

"Mercenaries!" The Sheriff chuckled, "Who is more suited for a dirty job like that than mercenaries! My mercenaries, Gisborne. I ordered them to be the ones to follow our party, ambush them before Hood's men got there and do some killing…butchering, ey?" His eyes glinted with glee, "Too bad about that little fiancee of yours, though. She doesn't seem to be quite able to speak. Worry not, Gisborne, that'll change soon enough!"

The fact that the man who was responsible, save for Lady Horvat, for the death of Marian, was in front of him, surprisingly, left little trace on Gisborne's outside appearance. He looked as if he was discussing normal reports, the butchering of a couple of peasants or something similar. As a matter of fact, his mind was pretty blank, too. There was shock, but hardly of the kind that would touch him. Nothing had ever quite touched him…except Marian. And now that she was dead…

What_ had_ Marian ever done for him that he should be avenging her, anyway? Nothing. Killing Hood for vengeance was one; killing Hood was something that could only have brought him prosperity and peace to the region. Vaysey-now, killing him would feel good, since he was a royal pain in the arse, but it would hardly bring prosperity along. He would most likely become an outlaw much like the despised Hood. As for Lady Elizabeth, she would meet her end eventually, if she already had not. That could be arranged.

"_Well_? Don't you want to hear the rest?" Vaysey said anxiously.

"Of course, milord." Guy's tone carried an edge of frost.

Rubbing his hands against each other contently, the Sheriff went on with a wider smirk; "You see, Lady Elizabeth doesn't know that the outlaws that took here weren't Robin Hood's men. With the leper of Knighton dead, and the lady Ines, there is no one else who could confirm that Hood and his men_ hadn't _captured our lady. And once she is back, she will have a lot of tasty—I mean, ugly stories to tell of the outlaw's..err…hospitality, he-he." Pride was evident on his face as he continued, "Needless to say, people will begin despising Hood when they hear he had killed two innocent women…and done something very nasty to the third one, ooh-la-di-da!"

One day, though, Guy would kill the Sheriff. And when he did that, it would be for, among other things, Marian of Knighton.

* * *

She was ruined.

The first thing that came to her mind when her eyes fluttered open, and even before that, before she quite had the time to remember how many outlaws had raped her and for how many times, was that she was ruined.

Nobody would speak tales of the daring Lady Elizabeth Horvat when and if she returned to Nottingham; they would speak of the lady who had gotten raped by Robin Hood's men-and these _were_ Robin Hood's men, more brutal than anyone had ever told her they were-and who was irrevocably, undeniably and without a mistake, _ruined._

Weak, puny and pitiful. She had succumbed.

Elizabeth wished this would be a dream, she wished to wake up home, in Croatia, in her parents' castle, surrounded by people she knew. She would have even rather been in the company of Ines than in this wretched situation. And Lady Marian…killed, all because of her and her plan. Her stupid, stupid plan.

If people only knew who Robin Hood and his 'merry men' truly were! If she ever got out of here, Elizabeth vowed to let everyone know, despite her shame, so that they would never again raise them to such heights as they did now. All would now that Robin Hood did not even show his face to his prisoners, but had his men interrogating them through rape. They had, at least, been as merciful as to send to her an old woman with herbs; herbs that would prevent any children from forming in her womb.

All was ruined, nonetheless.

She was located in what looked like a tent. There was no light coming through save that from a fire in the middle of it. _As if it matters. _Slowly, she sat up, still in the rags of what used to be her grand, triumphant riding outfit. Her entire body hurt. Her soul hurt. What would her father say when he found out? The notion of him finding out of such humiliation made her wish to kill herself on the spot. And how Guy of Gisborne would gloat-but that was not supposed to matter, either.

All that mattered was-nothing. Her life was over. She was weak. Puny. Pitiful. The guards-were there guards before her tent, at all? It did not matter. She had no reason to attempt escape, either-where would she go? To Vaysey? To her family, crestfallen? Never.

_Never._

This word was what made her reconsider all the ones before.

No. No. No, no, no. All of this was very wrong. Wrong to the bone.

She was Elizabeth Horvat. She was the only daughter of her family, sent here to get a prominent future. She could not let that go. She could not; she had to do something concerning this. She had to survive, she had to succeed.

For herself, for her family.

Marian was dead because of her. _So what. _She did not feel that way-the fact bothered her. But it was just one of the obstacles life had put before her. If she wished to succeed-and that she did-she had to get over it. Strong people did not concern themselves with who died for them.

_And I must be strong. I am strong._

No, she would not tell anyone of what had truly occurred here. She would not say a word of herself being raped. She would say that—that---something had stopped them, just when they had wanted to do it.

Who would there be to say otherwise? The outlaws? Their words-bragging and boasting-against the word of a well-bred, respectable lady?

She thought…not.

_Yes,_ Elizabeth jutted out her chin, _Yes. I will get out of this situation. Until then, I will play along. One day, I will have all of their heads-and I will have my revenge._

_One day._

_Soon._

* * *

_Pustite me! Pustit me, odmah! Pustite me! Nemojte me ozlijediti, _molim_ vas_! _Nisam ništa učinilaaaaaaa_!- Let me go! Let go of me, immediately! Let me go! Do not hurt me, please! I did not do anything!


	6. Pretending Is The Only Thing To Do

_**NOTE: **This is an Alternate Universe, evidently, in which the Sheriff and Guy had not gone into the Holy Land, and neither had Robin Hood and his gang. Just to clear it up before(finally! :) ) getting on with the new chapter. :)))))) _

_In which, I hope, I prepared some nice surprises for you. ;)))_

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter Six**

"You will _not _beat my horse with that whip. It leaves scars. Clear?"

"Yes, Lady Vaysey."

"And in future, you will listen to what I say, not to what you consider your expertise. You may come to me with advice, which I shall refuse or accept at my will. Clear?"

"Yes, milady Vaysey."

"Good. If you obey, you shall not lose a quarter of your salary. You are dismissed."

"Yes, my lady Vaysey."

Lady Elizabeth Vaysey turned away from the withdrawing new stable hand, facing the head of her guards, Merrick. A wide smile was on her face.

"Well," She said airily, "That takes care of it. Now-we should get started, unless we wish to reach Nottingham Palace at very late a time."

The man nodded his head obediently, but silently, escorting his lady to the carriage that awaited them a few metres away. They had already half-entered it before, but Lady Elizabeth had seen the stable boy attempting to get her mare out of the stables with a whip she had strictly told him never to use. So, she had intervened. It had not surprised anyone-for the year that she had been Lady Vaysey, she had made certain those inferior to her abide her.

Lady Elizabeth had married the Sheriff most unexpectedly. No one had ever expected the Sheriff to marry, Merrick recalled. He had barely tolerated Lady Marian when she, God rest her soul, had lived at the castle. _It must have been the money._ Lord Horvat had paid enough for the Sheriff to lose his perspective-usual perspective-and be ready to marry for more. Though it eluded Merrick why anyone with so much money would want his daughter to marry Vaysey, of all people. Though she was living a fine enough life; the Sheriff had even evicted a noble and let her have what used to be Knighton Hall as her own residence; most probably so she would not be near him for all the time.

"Ey, Patrick! Get on the carriage, now!"

Merrick shouted at one of the younger of his men, who lingered behind. The Sheriff may not have ever loved anything, but if his wife was to be ambushed by outlaws, he would have all their heads. This, Merrick found understandable; after what had happened to her upon her arrival, it was surprising she travelled at all. Most would not have.

* * *

Lady Elizabeth leaned against the window during the ride, closing her eyes. Merrick did not know how close she had actually been to forsake travel completely.

On that day, when she had, after two whole weeks of captivity, been rescued by Sir Guy and his men, she had barely endured the ride back; it had brought her so many horrible, horrible feelings, though she had swore she would forsake them. However, she vowed she would never show any of them-though she had seriously considered remaining in Nottingham Palace forevermore-but it took time. Time for chills and shivers not to take over every time she travelled these roads. _Any _roads. She concealed it, though-and she nearly always travelled alone, save for her guards. Elizabeth could not let anyone know of yet another weakness and be exposed to more shame. Not after all knew of what had occurred to her.

Oh, yes, she had vowed not to reveal it to anyone. Then Vaysey, after a couple of days, approached her, informing her that the reason Sir Guy had rescued her when he had-she had, for an instant, remembered when he had informed her he would not ever do such a thing; actually, she thought she had told him that when his men had brought her before him-had been the fact they had planted an informant among Robin Hood's men. '_Unfortantely, the accursed outlaw saw through him, and the good man is now dead.'_

The Sheriff, to cut to the chase, wanted everyone to know the truth. Elizabeth refused. _'How do you expect me to find a husband?' _It was then that they struck this deal. They would become engaged to be married, and then she would tell the truth to all. She had not wanted it, but her reason had won against her instincts. Her family would have wanted her prestige, her power…and she would, as the Sheriff of Nottingham's wife, had all that.

So, there she was.

"We are here, milady." Merrick called to her from the outide, as the carriage came to a halt. She got out of it without his aid, eying the courtyard of the castle. She had not been here in three weeks, and nothing had changed. Two or three men were cleaning up the gallows, proof that there had been some new hangings. All about that would be found out at dinner, tonight. Vaysey could not resist boasting about how many outlaws he punished most severely.

"Milady." The guards at the door bowed as they opened it for her. Once inside, she was met by a valet, who bowed more deeply.

"Milady," He said, "Welcome back to Nottingham Palace."

"Thank you, Martin." Elizabeth smiled at him, "Anything new occurred during my absence?"

"Not much, my lady." Martin seemed to be constantly bowing; she liked that, "Lady Gisborne said that she wished to speak to you about something herself. She is waiting in your parlor; I had let her enter, I hope milady does not mind it."

"Of course I do not." Elizabeth waved her hand, "I shall go upstairs immediately. Where is my lord husband?"

"His Lordship the Sheriff is in a meeting, with Sir Guy of Gisborne and the nobles."

"Very well. Inform him that I have arrived as soon as he is out of the meeting."

"Yes, milady."

They each went separate ways, the valet towards the meeting hall and Elizabeth up the stairs.

She had meant it when she had said she did not mind the fact Lady Ines of Gisborne was awaiting her in her parlor. While the attack had not succeeded in changing her more permanently, marriage to Sir Guy had done the trick, disposing her of some of her frilly demeanour. When she recalled the time when she had been sore at her for the fact she(Ines) would be getting him--! Hah! Now, she was Lady of Nottinghamshire, in rank and position high above Ines. One of the reasons why she did not mind meeting with her. As for Sir Guy-why, whatever had she seen in him!

"Good day!" Elizabeth chimed happily as she opened the door to the parlor, where Ines sat on one of the sofas. The latter smiled, straightening as much as she could due to the heavy stomach before her. Aye, she was expecting.

"Elizabeth! How are you?"

"Very well, thank you!" They kissed each other on the cheek, "Yourself?" Her eyes trailed over to the swollen belly, "When is that thing coming out?" She asked mischievously.

Ines laughed, placing her hand onto her stomach.

"The healer said-a month and a half."

"Why, a little Gisborne to be running around soon." Elizabeth chortled, getting up from where she had sat and walking over to where the glasses were. She poured herself some wine, handing a goblet to Ines as well, "I imagine Sir Guy is content?"

A shadow passed over Ines' face at the mention of her husband. Elizabeth knew why full well. Ines had expected that she had melted the heart of Sir Guy and that he was head over heels for her. In reality, their relationship was cold. Guy only spent as much time as he had to near her. Then again, Sir Guy was not a warm person, in general. Elizabeth often wondered how had he succeeded in acting so charmingly when he had caught her her on hir first day in Nottingham. Perhaps he had been drunk.

Now, towards her, he showed nothing but badly hidden contempt. He hardly even spoke to her. He had to show her respect as the Sheriff's wife, but she got nothing else than what her position warranted.

"I think he is. But he wouldn't show it." Ines' English had improved significantly. Once, she had confided in her, saying how Guy had become too annoyed with constantly correcting her mistakes. Elizabeth had known exactly how he had felt.

"Of course not!" She sipped the wine, "Sir Guy has never been the kind and caring type. What are you going to name the youngster?"

Ines shrugged, and Elizabeth knew what she was going to say, "It shall be up to my husband." Naturally.

"Do not be so submissive!" She chuckled, emptying her goblet and putting it aside, flicking her hair, "Certainly there must be a name you like."

She knew Ines would not stand up for her own name, but she had always enjoyed lecturing less spirited people. It simply made her feel…powerful!

"There is…" Ines fidgeted, "But he would never listen."

"Make him!" Elizabeth's hands flew up into the air, "Threaten him! Do _something._"

Ines shook her head, pursing her lips and looking around, obviously seeking a change of topic. No, Sir Guy had not broken her. He had not had much to break.

"When will you have your child?"

Ah. Talk about sore topics. Elizabeth's smile froze. This was a weakness of hers she did not like being reminded of. Strong women gave birth to children, and were not easily thrown away from that. After a proper year of marriage, she had not gotten pregnant yet. The healer believed it was due to the herbs she had taken when with the outlaws. He believed she would not be able to have children at all, judging by the current state of affairs.

And Ines had to remind her of it.

"Bah! The later, the better, I say." Her smile never left her, "I would not look forward to having to have all my dresses remade just so that I could fit into them." She shrugged her shoulders, "Besides, a child is not something my lord husband would fancy as much. He cares more about executing justice by slaughtering peasants and putting my dowry to use."

Ines would have said something twelve months ago-pointing out how, no doubt, Sir Guy had taken her due to her charms. But she saw the way he used _her_ dowry. Really, what had she thought, that he would marry for love when there was money around?

"I was looking forward to…fitting into all of my dresses, once more." Ines commented, still half-way through her drink, "I hope I have a little girl." She fixed her eyes on Elizabeta, "But you, I think you should definitely have a son!" The smile she carried seemed genuine enough, but Elizabeth knew Ines better than that, "You would teach him boy manners well, and with your lord husband.."

"You should definitely persuade your husband to let you name your child."

_If you will hit my sore spots, I'll do the same for yours._

"Well. No need to be mad…"

"I am not mad."

"Yes. Well." Ines rose to her feet, her eyes downcast but going up, "I must leave…Guy will be expecting me for lunch and I must get ready. Have a good day. Bye!"

With that, she was gone. Elizabeth was glad for it; all the enthusiasm about seeing her went away. Some people could not stand criticism, really.

"Oh! Elizabeth!"

The annoying voice was back. What did she want now?

"Yes, Ines?"

"I forgot to tell you. There is a feast being held tonight….they have caught one of Robin Hood's men. I thought you should know."

_Robin Hood's men. _

Fifteen minutes later, Lady Elizabeth was located in the dungeons of the Nottingham Castle.

The guard was doubtful.

"Milady, I…I'm sorry, milady, but I have strict orders not to let anyone see the prisoner—anyone at all, milady, save for the Sheriff."

A bewildered smirk appeared on her lips.

"Save for the Sheriff? You do know that the Sheriff is my husband, of course."

"Yes, milady. And I obey and abide his orders, milady."

She folded her arms. This was supposed to have been easy. But why would it be? The Sheriff had married her because he wished bad rumors of Robin Hood's gang to spread. And because her father had sent him more gold. All knew that he had no love for her, and that he despised marriage. And that he would never trust a woman with anything; save for the wretchedly failed plan a year ago.

Not that anyone knew of that plan.

"Look, all I want is to see the prisoner. _See._" Her amrs got lost in gesticulation, "You can stand by me, you can.-..hold my hand, all I care, I just want to see him!"

"I am afraid that I cannot grant you that request, my lady." The guard straightened, holding tighter onto his lance.

"Hmph!" Elizabeth huffed indigantly, folding and unfolding her hands, "Do you not think that I would be the last person to set a member of _that _gang free?"

The man opened his mouth, closing it again, at a loss of words. This always brought people there; though she hated pointing what had occurred to her, Elizabeth was pleased with the results.

"I…orders---"

"He is not paid to _think_. He is paid to follow orders."

The cold snarl had not belonged to another guard. Elizabeth recognized it, and she stiffened, raising her head and spinning around. This was one person she knew would not aid her cause. Just when she had been close-he certainly knew how to appear at an inconvenient time. A wasted allusion to her kidnapping; not something she liked much.

"Sir Guy." Her tone was curt, "I thought Ines was expecting you for lunch."

"Ines expects many things." He growled, coming to a halt from his descent down the stairs straight in front of her, "But not nearly as many as yourself. Have you not understood what this man had said? _Milady_." The last was added scornfully, with distaste. Just as always. Elizabeth smiled a disdainful smile.

"Sir Guy. I understand perfectly well, but I do not see reason within it. I am—"

"Those are the orders of your husband, milady." Gisborne made another step closer. Elizabeth noticed a madness in his eyes-a madness that was always there when they were remotely alone. She had never quite figured it out; it had taken her quite a long time to see it was there in the first place. She had seen it before; she had seen it when she had deceived him into thinking Robin Hood had raped her. _Maybe if I had not done that, he never would have raped me in reality. _

She recalled very well the words Gisborne had used then; _'I will kill him.'_

But she would not be frightened by her husband's subordinate.

"I know that full well. I am not questioning them. I am merely questioning this guard."

Her eyebrows narrowed, and his went up. A smirk curved the left side of his lips.

"Oh? And what kind of logic does that make for? Surely, you understand that this man is executing the will of your—"

"Yes, yes." Elizabeth waved off impatiently, "I was merely attempting to see the prisoner, in which I see no harm. I am certain…"

"Milady." He cut her off, cocking his head, "Your husband's will is what warrants you the respect of…his subordinates. Surely you were not going against it?"

He had her there. Elizabeth was respected not for anything she possessed on her own, but for the power of Vaysey. If she went against that power, she would be losing all she had. _Curses. _It had to be Gisborne, the one telling her that. Of all people.

Eyes blazing, she looked into his ones. So blue, as blue as ever. Blue and mad.

"No. I was doing no such thing. I will speak to my lord husband now-I gather the meeting is over, with you here. Excuse me."

Gathering her long, red dress she walked up the steps. She had climbed half-way, when she was stopped by a question.

"Why?"

Elizabeth froze. Then, she slowly turned towards him, hatred in every line on her face.

"Why what, Sir Guy?"

His face was a mask, "Why did you want to see the prisoner so urgently?" He repeated coldly.

Everybody knew of what had happened to her in the forest, with these very outlaws. It had been part of her bargain with Vaysey. If _anyone _knew, it was Guy of Gisborne. The reason to him asking could have been only one-because, somehow, he knew how much she despised it being brought out. Especially in public. Even if just in front of guards.

"That business is something I shall speak about to those I find worthy of serious trust. _Not_ yourself."

Leaving him behind, she turned back towards the exit, walking as slowly and as elegantly as she could. Her step, however, had been too quick, and by the time she came out she was racing. She did not want to go see the Sheriff and she did not want to see the prisoner now; but she knew she would fight fiercely to be able to. Before that, however-some would have thought more wine, but Elizabeth hated not being in control of her own mind and body-some water.

* * *

"I don't see why you stress over it as much, my dear." The Sheriff's voice carried sarcasm, "Scarlet will hang in the morning anyway."

Elizabeth sighed, lying down on their bed.

"I want to see him cry. I want to see him tortured. I want to see his face. I want to humiliate him."

Vaysey raised a brow, turning away from the window. Not like other lepers, she was. Other…faithful Christian women…would have said that a 'merciful hanging would suffice, as justice'. Of course, they would not mean it, but they would hide what they truly felt, if they felt it. This woman-she was not ashamed; she was proud of it.

He still hated the fact that he had _married. _A girl was a girl, no matter how different.

"My dear." He walked over to her, leaning over the bed, "Your speaking is foul."

Her dark eyes looked up at him, with a gaze he only could have estimated as-well, dark. There was amusement there, though, as she sounded;

"I'll take that as a compliment, my lord."

Sometimes, she reminded him of Davina. The only good thing about her.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, the Sheriff sat down next to her, shaking his head.

"Well, you still can't see the prisoner. You will see him on the day he is executed. I have a…" He frowned, "A special torture plan. He cannot see anyone, anyone save for me. I will, my dear, drive him mad." His eyes bore into hers, "Mad. _Booh_."

Elizabeth stared back, her brow raised. Then, she laughed.

"Booh, indeed." Inhaling an exhaling, she pushed herself up into a sitting position as well, "Very well. As long as I can see his face when he hangs. I want to speak to him before he hangs. I want to see just how mad you've managed to make him."

His face did not change a bit. Brief silence followed.

"Very well."

She smirked, "Excellent. Thank you, my lord. Now, if you would excuse me, I shall prepare for the feast this evening."

Once she was gone, Vaysey cursed. It was easy to deceive women, all right. But once she saw Scarlet, she would know that he had never touched her. Now, she would not mind him hanging, but she was, despite all, a woman-what if she betrayed them with an exclamation; what if her temper got hold of her(or whatever would get hold of ladies) and she said that Scarlett had not done anything to her? He had not hired so many outlaws, and she had told him she would never forget their faces.

What if she ruined this scheme?

No. Vaysey rose, his cloak swishing behind him.

She had to be told.

**

* * *

**

The feast had passed well. There had been dancing, banter, jokes, drink, food. Sheriff Vaysey had held a speech about their recent capture of one of Robin Hood's foul men, and he did not neglect to mention how he dedicated his death the following morning to his wife, Lady Elizabeth, who had been wronged by him more than anyone else, despite all the crimes Hood's gang had commited.

Elizabeth hated the fact all eyes had turned to her with pity; some with disdain. She jutted out her chin and thanked her lord husband, letting the feast continue. Guy of Gisborne and his Lady Ines sat right next to them, so she was forced to endure both of them. Ines kept complaining about how ill and heavy she felt, and Gisborne looked as if he would have loved to strangle her on the spot. Elizabeth managed to control any thoughts she had, until Ines began discussing the fact she had not yet given the Sheriff 'an heir'. Then, she outright told her;

"You really don't have to mention that any time we are disucssing children, dear Ines."

Sir Guy smirked, and she cast him a questionable glare, before asking for her husband's permission to accept a dance from a lord that had come and bowed to her. He had probably smirked because she had showed Ines' talk bothered her. He had probably liked Ines for mentioning that.

On her way back to her quarters, now, Elizabeth did not see why had she ever thought the feast had gone well. Sitting next to those she despised, beign humiliated; the dancing had lost half of its charm due to that.

"My dear!"

The familiar voice from behind belonged to her husband. Elizabeth turned around, with a half-smile, her eyebrows up.

"Yes?"

He caught up with her soon, and went on walking, with a quick move of his hand meaning she was to follow him. So she did, up the stairway. The stairway where she had fallen the first time she had descended it.

"It is imperative that we speak. I must tell you of something."

"Oh? Anything of interest?"

Vaysey opened the door to their bedroom, walking in and placing himself onto the largest armchair, grinning at her.

"Always." He flicked what little of his hair he still had, "Close the door behind you!"

Elizabeth did as she was told, sitting onto the sofa to the opposite of him. What did he have in mind now? A part of her entertained the thought of him being stirred by Ines' talks of the heir. That would have brought a lot of fury about. Mostly fury for Ines, from her. She swore, if Vaysey was displeased with her because of what that little wench---

"It is about…the prisoner." He toyed with his pendant, frowning at it here or there, "I have to tell you of something concerning him."

Ah. That. Relieved, she smiled.

"Have you managed to drive him mad yet?"

"Mhm..nah." He waved it off, letting go of the pendant and looking straight at her, "Nothing _as _interesting. My dear…you do remember our plan of last year, don't you?"

Elizabeth dropped the smile.

"Of course I do." Her tone was colder than she had even intended it to be, "Why would you ask?" Of course she remembered. She wished she did not, sometimes, but only late at night, when she was alone. Only then did she willingly think of it-partially willingly.

"You see…" The Sheriff leaned forward, holding one of his fingers up, "The plan was simple. You were to get in, into the gang of Hood, you were to kill him and get out."

"Yes." It was mechanical.

"That was your plan." He was speaking quickly, "But mine was a bit more, shall we say-complex?"

Elizabeth was not even going to attempt guessing. Schemes were something her husband excelled in. It could have been anything; though the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that it would not be anything she was about to like.

"Continue."

"I…" Vaysey got to his feat, looking somewhat smug as he walked over to the window, "Hired my own gang. That was to find out where the late Lady Marian, devil rest her soul, would bring you for Hood to take. And then _they_ took you. And killed Lady Marian, and did…ungodly things to yourself." He spun, his arms wide open, "And now everybody hates Hood, you are happily married, and all are content. See?"

She did not. Literally, she did not see. Her sight was a blur, and her husband but a black spot before her.

He had hired them. It was not Robin Hood; it was never Robin Hood. She had hated the wrong man for the past year. She had had nightmares in which she had cursed the wrong name, while the right one belonged to the man who had lied next to her for all the time. _Her husband. _

"No wonder you wanted to marry me." She was speaking in little more than a whisper, her mind uncapable of any further thoughts, "Had I remained silent, all your plans would have been ruined."

"Lah-di-da-di-dah." Vaysey rolled his eyes again, "Please, do not act offended. You are the Lady of Nottingham, that's more than any other woman in England can say for herself, eh?" He laughed at his own joke, "The arrangement works for both."

"Why did you not tell me?" Now she was hissing, "Why did you not tell me? I could have made up a—" She halted. No. He was right. He was completely right.

"Please. I barely got you to say it happened when it did. If it had not, your stupid pride would have spoiled all the fun." He walked behind her, leaning his head onto her shoulder. She halted her breathing; she would be damned if he saw her shudder. The old fool, the idiot, the disgusting_ bastard_.

"Lots of people lost things back then. You-your virginity, multiple times over. Gisborne, his leperous Marian. Hood, his reputation." A chuckle, as sly as they came, "Of course, the only one who got gain and nothing but gain-me!" He pushed away from her, "Enjoy your sleep, my dear."

And he was gone.

Elizabeth understood plenty of things now; Gisborne's silent madness, Vaysey's refusal to let her see the prisoner. He had used her. He had arranged for this to happen to her.

But _this_ was good. She was, no matter how many times raped, Lady of Nottingham. Married to an important, rich, powerful, soon to be more powerful man. Not being raped would not have brought her this; being raped had. She had nothing to regret. _I did what had to be done. _As did Vaysey. The instinct to strangle him with her own bare hands would have to wait for at least some of the time. She could not give up on all of this. She could not.

She did not have to like him.

All she had to do was pretend. Or throw all she had away. Have it all have occurred for nothing.

The following day, she watched the hanging of Will Scarlett, she watched the breaking of his neck, she nodded as they asked her if she recognized him, even though she had never seen him in her life.

_All she had to do was pretend._


	7. I Have To Let You Die

**Chapter Seven**

"Oh, this weather!" Lady Ines of Gisborne shuddered, leaning against her husband's shoulder, "I wish we were there sooner! I am sick."

Guy looked as if he was going to be sick, as he slowly drew his shoulder away from her, just as Lady Elizabeth, reluctantly, drew herself to the left, into the same direction as he. She despised vomit; having Ines' all over her was the last thing she wanted. She had already been sick, and both Elizabeth and Gisborne had been able to escape the contents of her stomach. Now, however, they could not stop to rest; the storm was raging at its fullest. It was a wonder they were moving at all; if their carriage was stuck in the mud, they would not be able to let it loose for God knew how long.

They were headed towards London, all the three of them. Vaisey had insisted Elizabeth came along with them, though she had had no desire at all. She consented without too much arguing, though, after pondering her only other option; staying with him.

That was supposed to be the worse option to her, after all. He had arranged for her to be raped and humiliated just to begin with some ploy of his. Even though her own plan had been completely good.

"I am better." Ines' voice was distant, and Elizabeth looked at Gisborne with a corner of her eye. The two of them had not exchanged a single word during the entire ride. His silence was supposed to be more pleasant than Vaisey's constant babbling. But one thought ran through her mind, one stupid, illogical and weak thought. _My plan would not have killed Marian._

As if on cue, Gisborne's gaze met hers.

As a matter of fact, she realized it had been on hers for a few seconds, only she had not noticed it. She quickly looked back at the closed window, studying the fabric of the curtains. She had no reason to be saddened by the death of Marian of Knighton. The woman had meant nothing to her. Whyever would she be thinking of such things? Marian's death had only saddened Marian's father, Robin Hood, most likely…and Guy of Gisborne.

She raised her head mechanically, breathing in. She had no reason to be giving Marian second thoughts. She would enjoy this trip, and think of nothing troubling in the past.

The rest of the journey passed, surprisingly, without vomit from Ines. It was rather quick, but it was already nightfall when they arrived. The city appeared grand; as did the palace, in front of which their carriage came to a halt.

The doors were opened for them, and Elizabeth exited the carriage without help from the guards, which were busy aiding Ines. Her eyes studied the building. Prince John resided in there, and he would come out to meet them now. The Sheriff had informed her that the Prince had prepared a feast due to their arrival-because he liked feasts, not because he found them as important. No matter how tired they were, they would not get away from that feast, unless they wished for the main course to be, as Vaisey had charmingly put it, their heads on silver platters(or golden).

She waited for the guards to steady Ines on her feet, and once they began moving forward, so did she. The door to the palace opened, and they stood before the stairs leading towards it, waiting for the Prince of the Realm to gracethem with his presence.

"Milady." The whisper coming from behin her, the breath tickling her ear and her neck and the hand on her shoulder made her half-turn her head, but she recognized the cold hiss and its owner, "Prince John is a man easily irked, and he deals with those who cause him displeasure swiftly, or, more likely, slowly so they would suffer more. So mind your tongue around him."

Smirking, she craned an eyebrow, now turning enough to meet his look, "Sir Guy," She whispered back, though her whisper was much too loud, "Do you honestly place so much care in my well-being?"

"Is there a reason why he should not?"

The voice was unknown to her, and proof that she had, indeed, never learned how to be silent when speaking; even when whispering. It was not hard to guess who it was, though. Elizabeth and Guy snapped their heads about, to see His Royal Highness only a few steps away from them.

Ines, next to them, was already in a deep curtsy. Elizabeth followed with a simillar one, though not quite as deep-how had Ines managed to do it with a stomach that size?-and Guy with a quick bow. Only after they rose did she feel the pressure on her right shoulder decreasing, and she realized that Gisborne had only removed his hand from her at that moment.

"Your Highness." Prince John was just as he had been described to her; extravagantly dressed, with an almost pathetic expression on his face, rather short, red-haired. His voice sounded pathetic, too, "Of course not. We were merely jesting."

Prince John, now right before her, barely acknowledging Gisborne's greeting, took her hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing it, "By 'we', do you refer to yourself in plural, or…" The amusement in his eyes was gone, and now they coldly shifted on to Guy, "Or to yourself and your husband?"

"No, no." Elizabeth laughed earnestly, "Sir Guy is not my husband, Your Highness, oh, no." What had possessed him to think that? The hand on her shoulder? Really. Why was she thinking of that detail so much? Prince John had probably just seen them standing close to each other-too close, perhaps-and drawn a conclusion, "I am Lady Elizabeth Vaisey, Your Highness."

The Prince raised his eyebrows, his gaze back on her, "The Sheriff of Nottingham is my husband." She finished, still chuckling, "Sir Guy's wife is Lady Ines, over there."

"Ah." Prince John barely nodded at Ines, who got out of her curtsy with difficulty-and aid from one of the guards. His eyes danced all over Elizabeth, "Your husband is, then, not here. How…" A pause, mischievous pause, "…Unfortunate." When he turned towards Guy the next time, some of the coldness was gone, "Well, Gisborne, let us head in. The feast awaits us."

Guy nodded, his face a mask, and moved over to his wife to take her arm. Elizabeth was expecting Prince John to offer her his arm. If not, though, she would walk alone. Maybe she was aiming too high, but Ines would certainly carry a look of jealousy for the rest of the evening if it did occur.

"Lady Elizabeth?" It occurred.

Smiling as charmingly as she could, she took the Prince's arm, and they began walking.

Even Vaisey would be pleased with this turn of events. He hardly cared for her, and if she was to have the liking of Prince John, he would be more than content. Not that she wanted him to be content; but she had to strive for it, because his well-being meant hers. She had to gnaw on her true feelings deep inside. _And I will._

"Tell me, Lady Elizabeth…" He cocked his head with a grimace on his face, "…Or may I call you Elizabeth?" Not a question, in reality, "You are the one who was taken by outlaws and ravished?"

What a lovely way of putting it. Her smile turned from charming to polite and courtly-with other words, very close to a mean one, "I was. Though it is not something I like to speak of often."

"Ah!" John's frown deepened. She half-thought he was going to release her arm and serve her head on a silver or golden platter, when he, suddenly, placed his other arm over her hand, "My lady, I understand, and I shall be merciful and not bring it up first. I shall also prevent anyone else from having you discuss it." He smiled a wide grin, "Do you not love me, my lady?"

Elizabeth's smile widened, too, but all the other characteristics remained the same, save for the mischief that had crept into her chocolate eyes.

"I must, Your Highness." She said coyly, "And I thank you. You will find, though, that I am excellent at having topics I wish not to discuss changed." Now, she chortled, "You do know that one of the outlaws that did it, however, was executed some days ago?"

Prince John was now eying her as if she was a very exotic beast. With some distate, she thought she noticed, but also intrigue.

"Of course I know. Sheriff Vaisey sent me a letter as soon as he could." His face took on a boring, fed-up expression and he turned away from her with a long sigh, "If only he was as quick to inform me of all his failures…"

"Robin Hood," They were now walking through the grand hallways, towards the Great Hall, she supposed, "At least, is seen for what he really is. The people have abandoned him, and he has abandoned them."

"Yes, yes." Prince John waved his hand lazily, "That was a grand scheme of his, it was. I liked it. I liked that very much. I still do." But his tone was flat.

Elizabeth remembered that he certainly knew the entire scheme. Vaisey was quick to brag when he did something masterful, and Prince John was the kind of person to appreciate the…finesse…of that particular plot.

"You do have a very beautiful palace, Your Highness." She remarked, after a few moments of silence.

"Of course!" John's smile was back, and his eyes were on hers, "I have Sheridan keeping it in perfect order. Nothing but perfection please me."

Elizabeth was sensing a game of words, "I find some imperfection refreshing, from time to time."

John's brow went upwards, "Is that why you married Sheriff Vaisey, my lady?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "No. I married him for his power and his money. I never sought perfection in him…and neither did he, in me." A beat, and a grin, "Though he should not have a hard time finding it, certainly." She made a mock proud face with a jutted out chin, her words clearly playful and joking.

Unlike Gisborne a year ago, Prince John understood her joke, and laughed very loudly-he did have an irritating laughter! Elizabeth joined in, and the door to the Great Hall opened before them.

"The Great Hall." The Prince motioned at it with his free hand, "You are a very straightforward woman, Lady…Elizabeth. I like that." He turned back towards his other guests. Elizabeth did, too, to see that Ines was too focused on walking properly to have time for jealous expressions.

"Gisborne; Lady Gisborne." Had John even remembered Ines' name?, "Here we are." He looked at his nobles, "My friends, our honored guests. Now, the feast may continue!"

The music was returned to the room-or so she gathered, she had not heard it before-and the Prince pulled her towards the head of the table.

There were three empty seats, to the Prince's right side. However, John led her over to his left side, where a raven-haired, blue-eyed woman was sititng. The woman was very familiar to her, Elizabeth realized, but she did not let her attention linger on her too much. The woman looked up with inquisitive eyes, her expression quickly turning to an eager-to-please one as Prince John stared at her.

"Your Highness. I was—"

"Ah! Ah!" Prince John stopped her by extending his hand, and the woman shut her mouth, "Lady Elizabeth, this is Lady Isabella. Lady Isabella will be going to sit over there, next to Gisborne," He pointed at the seat, which Elizabeth supposed had been meant for her, "You, Elizabeth, will sit here."

Elizabeth realized what the Prince was doing, and who the woman was, and she smiled quite sincerely at him. She also smiled at the woman, who nodded her head after a few seconds of baffled silence, getting up and meeting her eyes. She was regarding her with a clear not-getting-away-with-this, look.

In Elizabeth's eyes, though, she met nothing but a victorious glint, a smirk and a 'try me' expression. Then, she took her seat, and flashed another grin at the Prince, who, satisfied with himself, sat down at the head of the table.

Isabella walked over to the seat next to Gisborne, who had already sat down. Elizabeth noticed he had his eyes locked on Isabella. Perhaps he liked her? That would make Ines jealous; and this time, she would be on Ines' side. The way people treated her, she would treat them back.

_Look at how he is staring. Ines should slap him. In fact, I would do it with pleasure, if he was my husband. No, that would show him he had managed to hurt me. I would step on his foot quietly, so he, he only would see I minded it, not the entire room. If only Vaisey was here. He would tell him to stop staring. I cannot stoop as low as to appear as if I care who he is or is not staring at._

Taken aback at her own stream of thougths, replying mindlessly to a question Prince John had asked her, she kept one part of her sight on Gisborne. She was not supposed to care who he was staring at. Still-he was working for her husband, and that woman obviously had intentions of becoming her enemy. That was what bothered her.

"Brother." Isabella's voice was loud, "I would not have expected to see you again."

Both the Prince and Elizabeth spun their heads, and it took Elizabeth a few seconds to understand she was speaking to Guy.

Gisborne had a sister?

"You have a sister, Gisborne? And you, Isabella, a brother? You never told me that!" Prince John sounded as if he was mimicking being pathetically wounded by their silence, "Do you not love me enough to tell me about yourself, Isabella? You do not!"

"Your Highness." Panic did not seem to come to Isabella's face at her liege's displeasure, "My brother and I are not at good terms, exactly."

"_Mildly_ put." There was bitterness in Gisborne's tone as he glared at her.

Well, were they not a pair, the two of them. Isabella and she would obviously not get along. She and Gisborne did not, either. An unexpected boust of anger hit her. She knew why. Gisborne was loyal to her husband. She would be damned if she saw him teaming up with this…wench. Not that it seemed as if they were getting along.

"Still!" Prince John's patheticism increased, "It is still not good. Isabella, I expected more from you." He turned to Elizabeth, smiling a hurt smile, "Elizabeth, not all ladies possess your bluntness."

"Not all women do, indeed." Elizabeth smirked, feeling two pairs of Gisborne eyes on her. A couple of moments later, she turned towards them, to see Isabella the only glaring at her still. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow disdainfully, returning her attentions to…His Highness.

The evening was the first feast in months that she had not looked upon as 'just another feast'. Guy and Isabella kept bickering as subtly as they were able to, Ines had no one to talk to, between Guy and Prince John; while Prince John talked to Elizabeth, danced with Elizabeth and toasted to her.

Had anyone told her that the Prince was a man who could do all this for a woman he had just met, she would have thought it exaggeration. She was certain such things took days, weeks, even months; wooing rulers. With this ruler, it was too easy. And she had not even tried too hard. Which was probably why she would not last long.

Currently, she expected Prince John not to wait too long before attempting to drag her off to bed. She had to think well about how far she would let him go. No, she could not let him sleep with her just yet. It would be against her pride since it would have her seem easy. And John would not like it, would he?

He favored her bluntness; she would use that.

Slowly, midnight neared, and it was well past one in the morning when Prince John, quite inebriated, rose an proclaimed the party was over.

All rose, bowed to him as he began leaving the room. Elizabeth wondered why had he not taken her along. The wondering was slightly visible on her, as she realized when Isabella accosted her with a stare. Again repeating the same grin as before, Elizabeth rose, too, and went over to the guards who were supposed to show her to her quarters. Prince John would see her tomorrow. He had probably had too much wine to even be able to consider sexual intercourse this night.

* * *

_Isabella_. Of all people. Upon seeing her, Guy had nearly lost his temper. He had nearly asked about her husband in front of the entire court. Then, she had looked into his eyes, and he remembered the scared, little thriteen-year-old girl he had sold off to Squire Thornton. He remembered, to simplify, that she was his sister. He could not and would not shame their family name any further if he did not have to.

During the entire evening, she had never missed out on an opportunity to subtly strike back at whatever he said. Not that he had not given her reason to. What was she doing here? Where was her husband? She had run from him; and he would have to bother himself with returning her to him. He also did not like the fact she was here; the memories she brought along. Of living in a God-forsaken corner of France, with no hope-save for the sale of Isabella.

His own wife remained surprisingly silent, asking Isabella a few questions. To Guy's utter dismay, those questions were all questions about him when he was a child. He finally managed to shut Ines up by, quite ungentlemanly, stomping onto her foot. She did not squeal; she took the hint.

Prince John was too preoccupied with his newest toy to pay them any more attention after his lecture. The more he saw of the Prince, the more Guy grew to despise him. The Sheriff would most certainly be pleased with his wife's success of charming the Prince. He could already see the Sheriff and Elizabeth discussing another, grand plan of theirs. Guy wondered whether they would decide to kill him off during this one.

Elizabeth had, once, a year ago, at first sight, reminded him of Marian. But she was nothing like her. Marian had been kind, caring, though willful and stubborn. Elizabeth cared about her power, she cared about her money, her position, and she had no moral qualms, obviously. She did not care for the peasants or their taxes, or anything simillar. She cared about herself.

Though, currently, she was having it look as if she cared for Prince John the slightest bit. Sarcastically speaking.

"Where is your husband, Isabella?"

He and his sister were now completely alone in the hallway, standing next to a window. Ines had gone off to where the two of them would sleep. Guy would not have wanted her anywhere near his conversation with Isabella.

"I escaped from him." Her face was the depicture of a damsel in distress, "Guy, I had to. I had to run away, you don't know what Thornton did to me. He was…a monster! He-.-"

"You are his wife." Guy cut her off swiftly, "You are a married woman, who has come here, to London, of all places, to whore herself to Prince John."

"Whore myself?" She placed her hands on her hips, looking up at him fiercely, but with sadness, "Guy, you were the one who whored me to Thornon!"

"I sold you, not whored you. To Thornotn, who is now your lawful husband. So, that doesn't count as whoring." His hand extended, closing around her slender throat, "Isabella." He leaned in, "Let me make myself clear. Your husband will find you. Especially if you keep prancing about Prince John. So, unless you, within two days, leave, I'll carry you back to Thornton personally."

Defiance sprouted in her eyes. Guy thought she was going to defy him. But she seemed to know better. Good for her, because he meant every word he said.

"Guy, please. _Please_." Her voice was barely audible, and tears began streaming down her cheeks. The defiance was gone; Guy found it, at the moment, hard to believe there had been any at all, "I promise I won't be seen anywhere near Prince John. You see he wants your Lady Vaisey anyway. Just let me stay. You're all I have to protect me."

He couldn't let her stay. He remembered what Vaisey would tell him, was he here. _She's lying. You are letting her deceive you. _He would not be as stupid.

But she was his sister. Vaisey did not even know her. And she appeared in need. If Thornton never found her, he could not ascertain whether or not she had left him willingly, and if he found her, a tale could be made up to leave the family name clear.

Guy let go of her throat.

"Fine. Stay."

He ignored her grateful smile and twirled, heading towards his quarters.

A part of him hated himself for it already, and he could hear the Sheriff's scornful laughter all the way from Nottingham. _She's fooled you. _The other part of him had more confidence. _I can keep my own sister at bay. _Besides, Isabella had no reason to trick him. No ulterior motive could have been there.

He recalled how he had, a year ago, thought he would, one day, kill Vaisey. It nearly made him laugh out loud. How could he ever kill Vaisey when, even though miles away, he seemed to be affecting his decisions?

He was about to turn into the hallway that would lead him to his bedroom and Ines, when he heard a noise coming from another window.

A first, he thought it to be just a castle maid scullering around. Nothing to concern himself with. Then, his eyes landed on the edge of a dress; a dress far too rich to belong to a maid.

Isabella was not following him, was she? Her dress had been of the same, orange color, if he recalled correctly. Taking a few steps back without turning, slowly, he came to stand only a few steps away from her.

"Isabella?"

He growled, and headed towards her. She tried to escape, but he was faster, and grabbed her before she properly removed herself from the window. His hand clasped around her arm, and he pulled her closer, in time to realize, as the moonlight bathed her face, that this was not his sister, and that chocolate eyes were looking back at him instead of blue ones.

Chocolate, distressed eyes which seemed almost red.

"Lady Vaisey." He responded coolly to her gasp, eying her suspiciously, "What are you doing here?"

Elizabeth attempted to pull her self out of his grip. He did not let her. He had a distinct feeling she would merely hurry away from him in that case.

And he did not want that, because it was certainity the Sheriff would punish him if anything went wrong.

Something seemed to be wrong, obviously.

"Release me."

She demanded, but her voice lacked its usual security. Guy cocked his head, locking his eyes with hers.

"What has happened to you?" His demand was stronger and more firm than hers. Elizabeth, however, did not seem to budge. Not that he had expected her to be as easy to get through to. By what he knew of her, she probably despised him for catching her in a moment of such obvious weakness. He was very glad for that fact; just because she hated it.

She shook her head; "Nothing. Sir Guy, I demand that you let me go immediately—"

"I will _not_…" He pushed her against the wall. All of a sudden, he did not know where his anger for her was coming for. Was it anger or just ire? _Marian_. Of course. She had been the reason to it. Elizabeth had been the reason to the death of Marian. And now, she could be the reason to him being punished by the Sheriff for incompetence-again. That was why he was livid. Not to mention annoyed at her attempts-pitiful attempts-to hide that something was off with her.

"I will not let you go, until you tell me what are you doing here in the middle of the night, in this state. I am responsible for your safety…" She tried to get away, but he pushed her back again, "And I don't intend to fail in the task given to me. I'll ask you again, milady, what---"

She began to shiver.

Guy stopped talking, staring at her with utmost surprise. Elizabeth averted her eyes from his; eyes which were now full of hurt, closed them, and began sinking to the floor.

He let go of her now, and she made no attempt at escaping. She hugged her knees, buried her head into her skirts and went on shivering madly.

"Milady?" Only now did Guy notice that her dress was torn and nearly half-way taken off at her shoulders. In fact, nearly all of her breasts were visible. The anger slowly began to fade away, as he stood there, watching her. He did nothing else for what seemed like ages.

"Milady." Finally, he seemed to wake up from his trance. What had brought him into it, anyway?, "Milady. Has someone attempted to force himself upon you?"

It certainly looked that way. What Guy did not understand was why it distressed her as much. When he had found her in the outlaw camp, there had not been a hint of distress on her face. In fact, she had even mocked him. Now…now, was she crying?

One way or another, he had to deal with it. Wishing, strangely, that he had gone to Ines and that he was listening to her complaints now instead of being here, he wheezed resignedly and crouched down next to Lady Elizabeth.

"Lady Elizabeth." He placed his hand onto her bare shoulder, since words obviously were not getting across. At his touch, she flinched, but she did not push him away. Haltingly, she raised her head, and her eyes, now small and red-as red as they had been that day one year ago when she had kissed him-met his again.

"Tell me." Guy heard himself say, more softly than before.

She seemed to be pondering over it. Finally, she breathed a shaky breath, and turned away, staring ahead of her. Guy could have smelled the wine on her.

"H-he did."

"Who did?" This was not going to go as slow, was it? He hoped not.

But she went silent again, her knuckles turning whiter as she pulled her knees closer to herself. Guy wanted to grab her and shake the truth out of her-but she seemed to be shaking enough already, and for some reason, all of his lividity went away. Now, she did not look like the selfish, greedy Lady Vaisey; now, she looked like a mere woman who had been through something terrible.

So, Guy waited. Until she finally looked back at him, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.

"It's too late to turn back, is it?" Her whisper sounded broken, and she shook her head, peering down at the floor, "You've already seen me. I might as w-well tell you all of it…" Back up, her head was, and her orbs widening, "_Prince John_…It was Prince John…"

_One man I most certainly can't punish. _Guy thought impulsively. But something he did not understand was there. Quizzically, he surveyed Lady Elizabeth.

"Didn't you want Prince John?"

Because he had certainly gotten that impression from her behavior at the feast.

Elizabeth did not say a word. She gaped at him blankly, and he wondered if she had lost the gift of speaking. Then, abruptly, before he knew it, she was thrown against his chest, crying like a small child.

Guy raised his hands, not knowing quite what to do. The last time he had comforted a woman…he thought it was when Isabella was still living with him in France. The last woman he would have expected to comfort was Lady Elizabeth.

However, after some time, he gradually relaxed. His hands found their way onto her back, and, though gingerly, he held her, not knowing why he had not pushed her away himself. He hated this woman, did he not?

_Or what she pretends to be._

It took time for her to begin mumbling something, something he could not make out. He moved her away from his now wet jacket, and she leaned against his shoulder.

"All of my plans…_all of my plans_…all of them always _fail. _All I wanted was…t-to charm Prince John…finally properly charm a man…and have him f-favor me…I was certain he liked me as I was…he said he liked m-my bluntness…"

She paused for breath, and Guy did not say a word until she continued. Frankly, his tongue was rather tied up. A confession from Lady Elizabeth. One that was, somehow, actually moving him, as much as he despised admitting to it.

"W-when I was a child, I used to let people step all over me…it took so much _time _to amend that…To become strong…a-and I wanted to, here, catch a husband because I'm_ strong_ and because he likes me for my prowess and for my f-ferocity…" She shifted her head on him, "I never w-wanted anyone to see me weak…it would l-let down my family. And m-myself. M-my plan…I could have killed Robin Hood, and I would have, because I'd spent days and nights preparing for it, even though I_ feared_ it d-despicably…I wanted to be a great lady…ruthless, corageous…Then the Sheriff hired his own gang. They…they…"

Her sobs became stronger, and Guy caught himself running his hand up and down her back, stroking it gently. _She deserves this. I'm not supposed to feel anything for her, not even pity. _

But for some reason, he understood her.

Though she was nothing like him. She could not be. But it reminded him of himself too much, and he, against his will, recalled all the times he'd had second thoughts before doing one cruel thing or another for Vaisey. He shook those off, choosing to rather focus on Lady Elizabeth.

"I—They did_ terrible_ things to me…all of them…m-many times…I—I wanted to die…I wanted to die, because I had let my family down, myself down, and I was embarassed…and I couldn't help but think how y-you'd gloat when I came back ruined…"

This struck him as an astonishment-she had, in the worst moments of her life, thought of him. _And thinking of you made it worse for her. _

Not that he cared for that.

"Then I remembered that I c-couldn't act that way if I was truly strong, truly fearless…that I was failing everyone…and that what had happened w-was another obstacle in life, nothing more…and I w-wanted to keep it silent. V-vaisey…he didn't want that, it would've ruined h-his precious plan…s-so he offered to marry me if I told everyone about it…and I did…_I did…_so, I had a h-husband…with money and title…"

Guy stared at her in slight awe.

"You know?"

She knew? Vaisey had never told him he was to let her know of this plan. _But she knew. _And she was not protesting in the slightest. And it was what had done…_this…_to her.

Elizabeth nodded, breathing in with tremor. She looked him in the eye.

"Y-you wonder why I stand f-for it…"

"Yes, I do." He hadn't even intended on voicing that.

A slight smirk curved her lip; she almost appeared insane this way. Guy craned his neck to see her entire face.

"T-the same reason y-you do…position…and p-power…w-where would I be if I l-left Vaisey? A ruined woman. All the torture…all the hell that I went through…it would be for nothing. I worked hard to get what I have…I can't just let it go for nothing."

They watched each other in the dark, brown eyes and blue, on each other, and Guy saw that he felt strangely…peaceful. Disturbed, too. Both in the same time. If that was possible. Elizabeth seemed to be collecting herself, for her breathing eased, and her tears dried. After what seemed like an eternity, she let go of him, tampering with her hair.

"I must go." Her voice sounded more certain, "I must."

Guy released her, letting her get to her feet. Then, he did the same, keeping his face emotionless. If he knew her at all, tomorrow, she would act as if this never happened. As would he.

"Thank you, Sir Guy." She drew herself up, fixing her dress, "I would appreciate it if you did not mention this—"

"—To anyone. It was the consequence of too much wine…and unrest?" He offered, folding his arms.

Elizabeth appeared taken aback. Then, she slowly nodded.

"Yes. Yes, precisely. Good night to you, Sir Guy."

She began walking away, and he observed her back as she did. Her dress was torn there, as well-Prince John must have been very lustful that night. It only reached his mind now that Prince John had tried-or succeeded-raping her. She did know she was not supposed to mention _that _to anyone, or to be uncivil towards the Prince, did she not? Perhaps she would, to appear strong and whatever not, try to punish him, get back at him. _Not that it is any of my business. _Elizabeth was almost behind the corner, and she was about to turn it. What if she truly believed she could do something, kill Prince John or make him pay—

"Lady Elizabeth—"

"Sir Guy---"

At his astoundment, she turned around as well, facing him. They both began making their way towards each other.

"You must be silent about Prince John-don't expect to be able to have him pay for it. He can do whatever he wants, and whatever you say or do could earn you an execution- a not so swift one."

She carried something strange in her expression; something he had never seen before. It was-compassion? Regret? _Remorse_?

"Thank you." She managed silently, "Sir Guy…" She seemed as if she wanted to look away, but she kept herself steady, "I'm sorry about Lady Marian." She finally managed.

Guy was the one to look away. Then, he stared back at her, this being the last thing to expect from her.

"I…" Elizabeth went on, "I saw the madness and the anger in your eyes whenever we were alone, or nearly so. You must have loved her. I'm sorry."

Never would he have expected her to be capable of saying such words. The woman before him, he was half-certain, was not Elizabeth Vaisey. Nor would he have expected her to be able to notice…and remember Marian.

"It—" Guy did not know what he was about to say, nor did he have time to think on it again, because hurried footsteps and clanking of armors was heard.

"Lady Elizabeth!" A voice, strong and loud, sounded. Elizabeth's mouth fell open for a millimetre, and she glanced at the approaching guards with panic, before looking at him with alarm.

"Sir Guy, you must go. Now. Quickly."

What on Earth was going on? Guy turned to scrutinize the approaching contingent of guards. They had not seen him yet; he was in the shadows. Why would the guards of Prince John be looking for Lady Elizabeth? Perhaps he wanted to apologize to her; but something about the situation told him it was not so.

"Why?" He asked sharply.

Elizabeth shook her head rather desperately, forming her hands into fists and pursing her lips.

"Prince John!" She hissed, "I didn't let him rape me…I _hit _him. Twice. In the crotch and with a vase when that did not work well enough…I was crazy…with all the…_memories._" She glared at him wildly, "You must run! Or he'll catch you, too, and—"

Guy realized what this meant. Elizabeth would be arrested, maybe-most likely-even killed. If he did not get away, Prince John might be mad enough to do the same to him.

Yet, for a moment, he hesitated.

Then, he turned around and hurried away.

When he was far enough, behind the corner he had nearly turned on his way to his bedroom, he leaned against it, closing his eyes. He listened to the guard's deep voice;

"Lady Elizabeth Vaisey of Nottingham, I hereby arrest you for physical attack on His Royal Highness, John, Prince of the Realm. You are to be taken to the dungeons and the date of your execution is to be scheduled tomorrow."

They took her away. She did not fight them. Guy did not move. He heard them chain her; he did not move. He heard them ask if she had been talking to anyone before.

"No. No one." Her voice did not falter; her old demeanour was back.

He heard their steps disappear in the night. He let them. He did not move.

Now, returning to Ines seemed like the last thing he wished to do; returning to bed. Guy was certain he was not going to be able to get any sleep this night. Why? Because the woman he would have, a few hours ago, gladly strangled with his bare hands, was sentenced to die. For defending herself from rape; that was nothing unusual. Prince John was her ruler. He got to do anything with her, just as Vaisey got anything to do with Guy. How would he react to this? Would he be glad to be rid of his wife?

He opened his eyes, and he began walking, but it did not make the image before him go away. The image of Lady Elizabeth's dark, alarmed eyes with all the emotions of the world somehow settled within them.

_I have to let you die._

There was nothing he could do. And he knew Elizabeth would understand his choice. That she would have made it herself, in his position.

Which was precisely why, by the time he lied in his bed, he felt like the worst coward underneath the sky.

Because she understood.


	8. Incompetent Fools

**NOTE: **_Here's another one. Man, inspiration has certainly grabbed hold of me, and it isn't letting go. In this chapter, enjoy Vaisey going mad and Elizabeth experiencing the price of being the sort of person she wants to be. Not that she'd give it a second thought. :)))_

_Have fun!_

_And special thanks to **GizzysGirl **for all the reviews. :)_ The rest of you should look up to her! ;)

**Chapter Eight**

"Gisborne!" Prince John was in a plainly grim mood; most likely due to his escapades of last night. Guy knew of them better than anyone, especially of the way the Prince had earned himself a nasty cut on the forehead. He had barely surpressed a chuckle when he had first seen it.

"Sire." He greeted correctly, "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Don't sit!" The Prince was in the throne room, seated on the throne, one hand rubbing his head-he, Guy noticed with strange content, must have suffered from terrible groggines. Nodding his head, he remained standing.

"Gisborne…I was in too good a mood to talk business yesterday, thanks to…" His eyes fixed on one of the windows longingly, "Thanks to something that is now gone. But," He dismissed his concerns with a regal wave of the hand, "You and the Sheriff have to know. My brother Richard was captured by Duke Leopold of Austria. Fifty thousand crowns is the ransom."

Guy's brow raised, and he was frankly amazed at the stupidity of this man. These news were important. And good, since there was no way in hell England would ever raise that kind of money. At least he would have that bit of good news for Vaisey, when he informed him his wife had been executed for attacking Prince John.

"That is…fortunate, sire."

"Yes, yes!" John craned his neck dramatically, "We cannot afford that kind of money. The peasants will understand, Gisborne, because if he tried to gather the money, _they _would suffer. And they will see how benevolent I am…risking my own brother for them…and they will love me all the more."

"Yes, Sire." Annoying creature.

Prince John stared ahead of him again, a distant expression in his eyes. Sighing wearily-but silently-Guy began pondering the walls and the paintings on them, knowing better than to interrupt Prince John in his 'important thoughts' when he was in a sour mood.

One of the women on the paintings then reminded him of Lady Elizabeth.

Guy had managed to sleep some during the night, but little, and when he remembered the way she had behaved yesterday-the things she had told him-he also remembered why had that been the case.

He had been well aware that it would be stupid to try to speak to Prince John on her behalf. And he tried to convince himself he had no reason to do such a thing. But her eyes-her eyes haunted him, much like Marian's. Now, he had two pairs of them, looking at him all the time. Marian's, when she left him at the altar-obviously, for Hood-and Elizabeth's, when she told him to run and save himself, after saying she was sorry for Marian.

_I should be saying something. _He thought, but inwardly shook it away. No, he should be remaining silent. When in bad moods, Prince John hung people for the slightest of displeasures. Asking for mercy for someone branded for execution…

_Coward. _An inner voice told him. _You're doing what you have to. She would understand. _The other told him.

And that made him bring the decision.

"Sire…"

"Did Elizabeth love me, Gisborne?"

Now was his chance. Relieved, Guy focused on how to best formulate the explanation. If he did it right, Prince John might just let her go. If not; he might just have Guy joining her. But now that the Prince had started the topic-the rest was easier.

"Sire." He kept his tone respectful, the way he knew John liked it, "I believe she _does_. I have heard guards talking of her arrest, thogh."

Prince John straightened, causing a painful frown to pass his face. Guy would have laughed in any other situation.

"Guards?" The Prince whined, "Which guards? I'll have them executed immediately."

Damn it. Not a good start. His lips a thin line, Guy went on,

"I do not remember, sire. It was still rather dark when I heard them…I did not see." Why the hell was he lying for her? What was he doing? If the Prince saw through the lie, he would certainly have him pay for it. Vaisey…Vaisey…he did not know if Vaisey would even be content.

_Too late to turn back now._

"Yes, I did have her arrested." John leaned back in the throne. Guy regarded him with suspicion, as he pointed to his forehead, "_She_ did this to me!"

"_No_." Guy hoped he sounded surprised enough, and that the Prince had not seen the smirk when he'd covered his eyes, "May I know why, sire?"

Like a spoiled child, Prince John opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, pouting as if he was about to cry. _Look at who I'm working for. _Guy thought, dismissing yet another pondering. Prince John would give him power; one day, he would be Sheriff of Nottingham. How the Prince behaved was not his concern.

As long as it did not harm him, that was.

"I…" John sounded, "I…" He leaned forward, "I wished to sleep with her." He finally whispered.

Guy craned an eyebrow; "And she refused you."

"She hit me!" John cried out, hitting his hand agains the throne and grimacing most painfully, "Ouch! She hit me! And I favored her for her bluntness…" His fingers began playing with his lips, "I favored her for her bluntness! I'd had enough of chasing with Isabella…who'll be staying with me, not going with you, by the way…I wanted someone who would straightforwardly sleep with me right away! But she went all…crazy and she hit me!"

Guy was bemused at what he said. Isabella, staying here? Impossible. When had she found the time to talk to Prince John? It was barely midday. If she stayed here, Thornton would find her, their name would be dirtied once more, and in the end she would come back to him, begging for his aid once more. _She promised._

He would have to talk to her.

"Sire, Isabella—"

"She'll be staying, and that is my final word!" John's voice rose, more high-pitched than ever, "I don't want to talk about Isabella now."

Elizabeth returned into his mind.

"Yes. Sire, I believe I know why Lady Elizabeth…refused you." He would have to focus on one thing at a time.

"Hit me!" The Prince repeated, "She hit me, she did not just refuse me." His brow furrowed, and he glared at Guy bleakly, "Why, Gisborne?"

Guy gathered she would hate this. But it was better than losing her head. Even if she would only realize that when the date for the execution was already scheduled.

"Sire, she was, one year ago, abducted by outlaws."

"Yes, yes, I know." John's tone was bored and hurrying.

"The outlaws-Robin Hood's gang-raped her. Multiple times over. The lady…" He halted, looking down and inhaling. Why did he dislike saying this so much? Most likely because he was actually bothering to help her, "The lady, I know, can barely stand the touch of her husband…in that manner. She must have also had some wine, and that combined with the shock must have brought her to do…horrible things."

John seemed to be deep in thought over what he had heard. After a few moments, Guy began wondering whether he had listened to him at all, or whether he had stopped somewhere half-way through. This had probably been in vain. Guy caught himself hoping it had not.

Finally, the Prince looked up again, removing his hand from his chin ponderously.

"I suppose that makes sense, yes. But why didn't she say so?"

"Pride, Your Highness." This time, Guy was not lying.

"Pride." Prince John echoed, "Pride."

Another irritating silence. Guy shifted on his feet, at loss of anything else to do. Exactly how long would this last? The silences were especially annoying because they made him think more on what were his reasons to be doing this.

"I suppose I could let her off." The words made him feel further relief, "But pride cannot be more important to her then I, her sovereign!"

"She was out of her mind, sire." Guy was losing his patience now. Even Vaisey would have given up already. Or not. But he would have certainly _made his mind up_ already.

John's eyes rose with suspicion.

"How do you know that?" He inquired briskly.

Goddamn it. _You're daft, Gisborne. _He could have heard Vaisey say, and this time he found himself in full agreement.

"I suppose…sire."

Unexpectedly, the Prince nodded gently and frowned once more. Guy nearly exhaled with ease. That was certainly close.

"Yes." John's bobbing of his head increased in its ferocity, "Yes. That does make sense. I think you guessed properly, Gisborne. She was out of her mind." _More silence., _"I could not just let her go, of course. I may be benevolent, but I also must have some fear, authority…" He mused. Guy braced himself for refusal already. He sighed-what else could he have expected--?"

"I could ban her from London. She'd have to return to Nottingham-and never come here again!"

John clapped his hands in delight, a wide smile full of self-satisfaction on his face, "Yes! That's it! I will make a small spectacle out of it, of course. She'll be released by the end of the week…on the date of your departure." Guy simpered, too. Excellent-they had originally been supposed to depart in thirteen days. The less time they spent here, the better, " Of course, she'll be confined to her bedroom until then. I will have entire London know how she had attacked me because of the traumatic experiences of her past…which had deranged her mind."

Oh, she was not going to like it. The entire kingdom would now see her as a madwoman. Guy knew he would have to pay a visit to her cell before this proclamation, unless he wished for her to ruin all of this.

"---and never to return. Brilliant!" Prince John ended his tirade, "Brilliant. Scurry off, Gisborne; go tell her the news. No reason to derange her mind further by having her think she is to die. Off you go!"

With a curt bow, Guy did as he was told. Something had finally worked out as it was supposed to. He even had an excuse to go and inform Elizabeth of it. Grinning triumphantly to himself, he left the throne room and headed for the dungeons. _Not so daft, Gisborne. Not so daft._

* * *

Elizabeth had not slept at all during the night.

There was plenty to torment her, ignoring the fact that she was about to be executed for physically attacking His Royal Highness, Prince John. Basically, she was to be executed for defending herself from rape. As much as she was outraged at it, it did not surprise her. It had not quite sank in, yet. So, she was more bothered by other things.

Such as her own behavior last night.

She had cried in front of Sir Guy of Gisborne. She had told him things she had not ever told anyone, anyone, alive or dead. Elizabeth had showed him all that had ever troubled her, all that she had wanted to bury deep inside and never let it out, or destroy it. She had acted like a ninny; she had apologized for Marian, whose death had not been her fault. She had made him see her as the kind of person she was not. _Could not be._

And she had hardly resisted arrest at all! She'd also warned Sir Guy, so he could walk away and avoid her fate. Elizabeth had acted like a weakling, like all she despised. _I am not that kind of person-a weakling. _But her actions spoke otherwise, and she found herself wishing to turn back time just so she could spit insults into the faces of the guards instead of coming along quietly.

Elizabeth had been unable to bare Prince John's incessant touches; she had told him that. His Highness had not taken to it kindly, and he had attempted the use of force. At which she had completely lost her wits. It had brought along too many recallings, to many visions, too many dreams that haunted her at night.

_That cannot happen again._

Obviously, it would not. She was to die, soon.

Die a weakling. No-at least she would have to make her last moments be grand.

The cell was small, and it stank of blood and sweat of its last occupant; who had just been hanged prior to their arrival to the city. Elizabeth had not even lied down; only sat. Her wrists were sore due to the chains, as were her ankles; she was hungry, thirsty, and tired; and she was confident she looked terrible.

She would have to raise her head high. _There. _Bring hatred instead of self pity into her eyes. _There. _And never cry, until the end. Which still seemed so surreal. She was not really going to die.

_But she was._

Clenching her teeth, she refused to let tears come. _Never again. _Her heartbeat increased and became painful. Ever again; she did not have much left. Never again ment never again in her lifetime, which would, evidently, last for a few days at least.

Would Vaisey bother saving her? No. Risking the favor of Prince John was something he would not do, especially not for her. Who else was there? By the time the news reached her father, she would be long gone. Ines was to meek to say a word. Elizabeth forced a smirk, despite the panic she was barely keeping at by. Oh, what would Ines be doing if she was in her situation…

"Milady."

She looked up, suddenly, surprised at the voice. _Gisborne. _What was he doing here? Remembering last night, with him, she felt shame rise within her. A part of her was glad to have something to distract her from thoughts of death, but her other part wanted to want for him to go away…and she was lost in the turmoil of her thoughts, and she had to break it with something.

"Sir Guy." She said, with more emotion than she wanted to use, "What are you doing here?"

She could not see what he was thinking; she did not even attempt to read him. In the back of her brain, the idea of him coming to apologize to her for leaving her formed, but she destroyed it quickly. _I would not do it if it was the other way around…would I?_

Now, if nothing, she would appear strong. All the strength in the world could not make up for the weakness he had seen already-what a fool she had been to show him! But it was the only thing she had now; the painful understanding of that laid heavy on her heart.

Expresionless still, Guy replied.

"I have come to tell you you will not be executed."

His voice was cold, as usual, but his words, his words made a huge-no, not huge, e_normous_- weight fall off her chest. Blinking, she looked at him with disbelief, waiting for it to settle in. _Not be executed._

She would live!

_Thanks God._ And she was so brave, so bold, ready to go without a single tear. Now, she had reason to be content with herself. She had been certain she would die, but she had accepted it with her head high. Allowing a smirk to escape her, she focused on Sir Guy.

"How?"

Surely he had not arranged for it. Or had he? That thought made warmth fill her body; or was that just recovering from shock? She belived it was the latter. Really, why would Gisborne's saving of his superior's wife be anything out of the ordinary.

"I spoke to Prince John." Guy leaned against the bars with his one side, his eyes somewhere on the roof, "He agreed that…considering the circumstances, your reaction was understandable."

_Considering the cirumstances. _"You told him." She blurted out, her smile becoming significantly smaller, "You shouldn't have."

His eyes snapped towards her, and she saw disbelief in them. _And no madness. _She thought, astonished by that fact.

"What was I supposed to tell him?" He asked roughly, "He barely agreed as it is. Which brings us to why I'm also here-milady, he'll banish you from London, forever."

"Good." Maybe she should not have protested to this; it had, after all, saved her life. Whatever had happened had been her own fault; her and her cursed weakness had been the reason to it. Sir Guy had saved her life. She had good reason not to protest to it.

"After you spend the rest of the week under house arrest, and after he makes a public proclamation that you're…" Gisborne hesitated, "That you're mentally deranged due to the traumatic experiences of the past."

Her blood froze and boiled at the same time.

"He'll make it look like I'm mad." She managed, "He'll tell that to the entire city."

Guy exhaled, scowling and producing a slow blink of his eyes. Which were, once again, on the wall and away from her.

"It will save your life. It's that or death." He pushed away from the bars, "I came to tell you this so you'd avoid any outbursts."

She breathed heavily-in and out. It was the only thing she could do. Sir Guy was right. If she said anything wrong, she would be back in the cell, this time with no way of ever being rescued. By anyone.

He must have seen there were more important things than old enmities, she found herself contemplating, despite the fact she was Vaisey's wife-Vaisey would not have minded if Gisborne had acted more pleased with himself at the fact that she was to be humiliated. More to the point, Elizabeth wondered if something had changed between them. Nothing could have; not just because of a brief conversation that was best forgotten.

Though she did not know if she could forget.

"Thank you." Only once it was said did she realize she had said it. And meant it.

What followed was a moment during which nothing but a fly and a scream of some other prisoner was to be heard. She moved her orbs up, regarding him, to see he was doing the same to her. An eerie feeling enveloped her, and she was brought back into a strangely vivid memory of a certain kiss a tad more than one year ago. When she had acted against every principle of every bone in her body.

Liking it.

"Well." Guy broke the charm, "You should be thankful. I could have as well lost my head trying to save yours."

It was the same, angry, cold, arrogant tone he usually used with her. This time, it made her snicker.

"Talk about chivalry. You should consider it an honor to save the life of your lord Sheriff's wife." She relented hotly.

"Hmph." He snorted, "That was a decision I am already beginning to regret."

"Cheer up, Sir Guy." Elizabeth cocked her head, "We shall not have to see each other again for the rest of the week. That is worth being nearly killed for. That is worth _dying_ for, now that I think on it."

"Strangely, I concur. Enjoy your stay. _Milady_."

After that, he turned around and disappeared up the stairs. Leaning back against the wall, Elizabeth felt unusually satisfied. Things were back to old with Sir Guy-though something was different. It felt more as if they were merely striking at each other for fun then out of true hatred. Elizabeth liked it.

Of course, the thing she liked most was the fact that he had chosen to ignore their meeting in the wee hours of the night. _He had better. _Still somewhat confused over why did she trust him to keep that secret and why was she so sure he would, Elizabeth closed her eyes and fell into dreamless sleep before she was taken away to her quarters.

* * *

"_Fools! _Useless, incompetent, incapable, _FOOLS_!"

Lady Elizabeth and Sir Guy stood side-by-side in the Sheriff's office, in front of his desk, listening to his rant for more than a quarter of an hour. Vaisey was no longer seated in his chair, as he had, seemingly firmly, been when he had first called for them. Now, he was on his feet, fuming and looking ready to break them both in two. Though he was shorter than both.

A week had passed since their return from London, a week during which they had not seen the Sheriff. When they arrived to Nottingham, Allan A' Dale- a former member of Robin Hood's gang, a former inside man, and now Guy's right hand man-or the Castle's whipping boy, as he sometimes referred to himself-had informed them of Vaisey's departure to London.

'_He was mad as hell-called by Prince John. Must've been somethin' bad. What did you people do there?' _After Gisborne's growl about minding his own business, he shrugged and went on, _'All right. But not bein' funny-you're livin' on borrowed time.'_

Borrowed time that had, just now, come to an end.

"I can't believe you!" The Sheriff went on, pacing about, knocking away vases, books, paper or anything that was in his way, "I send you there for two weeks-two!" He stuck out two fingers for them, "And what do you do? YOU RUIN IT ALL IN A DAY!" He knocked over the chair, throwing another vase at them. They both managed to avoid it that time, but the other time, Guy was not as lucky and earned himself a gash just above his eye.

"My lord…" He began, to be cut off by Vaisey.

"DON'T! You 'my lord' me, Gisborne!" Elizabeth began wondering when would his throat become sore from all the screaming. With a swish, he turned around the room-aimlessly-and then headed over to her after regarding them with livid eyes.

"You!" He grasped her throat tightly, cutting off her air. Elizabeth's hand, quite impulsively, flew up and she dug her nails into his hand.

"Let—" She did not manage to speak properly, because, while he did release her throat, and shouted out in pain, Vaisey also slapped her with his other hand. Slapped-more back-handed. Never expecting him to be as strong, Elizabeth swayed significantly on her feet, and she would have most likely fallen to the floor, had Gisborne not caught her.

Vaisey did not like it.

"Drop her!" He yelled. Guy waited hesitantly for a second. When the Sheriff shouted once more, though, he did as he was told. Elizabeth fell to her knees, fighting with herself not to fall unconscious and not to rub her face, which hurt singificnantly.

"Wench! Whore! Leper!" The Sheriff-her husband-came closer, grabbing her hair and pulling it back. Against her will, she let out an exclaim, and was about to hit him, when someone; apparently, Sir Guy, caught her hands, "Were you this feisty with Prince John? After charming him for the entire evening, the man wants to sleep with you, and you-what do you do? HMM? _HIT HIM_!" He slapped her, and then went on, mimicking her tone in mockery, "You were shocked by traumatic experiences from the past? A clue: NO!" He got up, "You are just like any other leperous woman."

"You would have rather had me raped by him?" She said, murderously. Gisborne could not hold her tongue. And she would not and could not stand to be treated this way by Vaisey. He surely would not kill her for retorting, would he?

The Sheriff's face looked as if the devil himself had possessed him.

"Yes." He hissed dangerously, after a moment of quiet, "Oh, yes. I would have loved that. Because if you had done that…" He turned around, and turned over, somehow, his massive table, "I WOULD BE IN THE FAVOR OF PRINCE JOHN! WHICH NOW, I AM NOT!"

At the speed of light, he hurried towards her, hitting her again. This time, she fell onto the floor.

Gisborne released her, and she wished he had not held her. She wished he had let her hit the Sheriff. Damn him! Raising her head; which took her more effort than she would have cared to admit; Elizabeth frowned at him(Vaisey) with burning eyes. How dared he! What gave him the right to this? Nothing! She was Lady Elizabeth Horvat, and she would _not_ be treated thusly.

"Serves you right!" She said. Vaisey looked at her, and she went on, "I did not stand for Prince John's abuse, I _will not_ stand for yours either. If you hit me once more—"

Everything went black.

Some time later, she opened her eyes again, and even though the room was still spinning-she was still lying on the floor-she saw what seemed to be the Sheriff yell at what looked like Gisborne. _Still yelling. _Her head hurt, hurt like hell, and she let out a groan of pain, very small comapred to what she was feeling.

"---if you had let her die, she would simply be my _dead,_ crazy wife, and now, she is _only my crazy wife_! Do you even realize, Gisborne, how bad that makes me look in the eyes of Prince John? _EH_?"

Guy said nothing, or if he did, she did not hear it. Elizabeth closed her eyes, just for a moment, too tired to even think. Yes, she had been incompetent, yes, all of this was occurring because of her stupidity. She heard someone scream out, and she hoped, prayed, for the love of God and Devil, it was the Sheriff.

_It is_ my_ fault. That's why, please, make it be the Sheriff._

A second later, she recalled this thought, and realized it made no sense. What on Earth had it meant? Never mind that. Never mind it all. Breathing in, she drifted off into oblivion, finding it very comforting not to be thinking of anything, and not feeling anything.

* * *

It bloody hurt.

Not the cut, not the burn, not even just his pride. What hurt was the fact that the man who was, literally, the closest thing he had to family, had done this to him. Not that she Sheriff had not been mad at him before. Only never _this_ mad. Not that he hadn't ever inflicted pain upon him. But usually, there was a reason-when he had burnt his tattoo, it was because the tattoo was proof against him, branding him as a traitor. A reason other than anger.

An hour ago, he had stumbled out of the Sheriff's office, facing a horrified-expressioned Allan A' Dale, who had, apparently, heard every word that had been said in the study, and telling him to go take Lady Elizabeth to her quarters. Then, he made his way to his own room, where he threw himself onto the bed, and somehow fell asleep. Of course he did.

After all, all things summed up, he _was_ used to this.

Now, he was awake again. It took him a few moments to collect his thoughts and realize that someone was knocking on his door.

"Get in." He pulled himself up in the bed, and winced at the pain below his chest. The door opened and closed, and only then did he see it was Allan again.

"You." Guy muttered, letting out a long sigh, "What do you want?"

Allan's eyes were obviously wide, and he did not seem to be capable of speaking. Annoyed, and wondering what he had to look like, Guy spat at him; "_What_? Did I grow a pair of horns?"

"No…" Allan shook his head, appearing rather stupid. Well, not that he was among the smartest of people usually, "Not bein' funny…but you two must've done some serious bad stuff over there in London. The cut looks nasty…"

"That doesn't concern you." Guy snapped, content when he pushed away from the bed and got to his feet without too much trouble, "Now, I'll ask you only once, _what are you here for_?"

"Sure!" A' Dale raised his hands in surrender, "Lady Elizabeth woke up…and she asked after you. And she made me go check if you were, err, alive."

"Of course I'm alive." His pride spoke fisrt. _Elizabeth_. Guy recalled what she Sheriff had done to her, and he recalled how he, himself had merely stood there and watched it. For some reason, he did not like that, though he had prevented her from hitting Vaisey and earning herself a greater punishment. Hell, what _was t_here not to like? He'd done too much for her, as it was. If he had not saved her life, Vaisey would not have thrown a vase at his head, nor would he have thrown hot iron at his chest. Just when he had thought one of his plans had gone right.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure…I had to check." Allan shrugged, watching him walk over to the water basin and splash some over his face, "How'd that happen?"

"How did what happen?" Guy faced him again, followed his eyes, and saw that his chest and his shirt were completely burned through. Naturally. An image of Vaisey throwing a part of an iron chain, that had somehow ended up in the fire of his fireplace, and of it falling straight there passed through his mind.

"None of your business. Go tell Lady Elizabeth I live." Allan looked like he was going to say something else, but a death glare from Guy silenced him. Nodding, he went out.

It only occurred to him after he was gone that he could have asked how Lady Elizabeth was faring, after all the kicks the Sheriff had given her. Also, it occurred to him that, if Allan had managed to hear all that was going on in the study, so had the other guards; and everyone would know. Enraged, he grabbed the water basin and threw it against the wall.

He really _was _an incompetent fool.

Enduring all this because of a woman he supposedly hated.

And, first and foremost, thinking that he was supposed to have asked after her, before anything.


	9. You Bring Out The Worst In Me

**NOTE: **_A most juicy chapter awaits you, my faithful readers. :))) Nice and long, too. Not to give you anything away, I'll end this note here. :) Enjoy!_

_I've also discovered that Allan A' Dale is the perfect way to add more humor to the story. :D And rest assured, LOTS of humor awaits you in the following chapters. _

**Chapter Nine**

Lady Elizabeth had genuinely had to bite on her tongue for the few days after the encounter with her husband in his office after his return from Prince John. The anger within her was at its strongest when she had first woken, only to see Allan A' Dale next to her bed, telling her, for some reason, that Gisborne lived. Whilst she did not recall it, he claimed she had woken once before and asked for him. She did not remember, but he swore it was the truth.

It did not go away. By the time two days passed, and by the time she actually saw Vaisey again, it was as strong as it had been. It was then that she started biting on her tongue, in order not to say anything, in order not to lose all she had. Pretending. Pretending did not come as easy now, once she had been so humiliated. Everyone in the castle knew of the Sheriff's punishment; his shouting had been loud enough and some claimed they'd heard it all the way to the kitchen; thought that was likely exaggeration.

It had not been very easy to stick to what the reasonable part of her told her, especially since it went against all she wanted to be. So, now, upon their first encounter after the…meeting…when he attempted to provoke her with his, 'oh, so funny' japes insultive to her intelligence and to plenty of other things, she told him off with plenty of vigor. Oh, she knew that she would never actually do anything to Vaisey-but telling him off certainly would not earn her a divorce. Husbands and wives did that to each other constantly, did they not?

Guy of Gisborne was the one to save her from any reaction; again.

"M'lord, there's been someone stealing food from the kitchens. I have reason to believe it might be…the Nightwatchman_."_

Elizabeth did not known whether that statement carried any truth to it, but it certainly preoccupied Vaisey enough. Not in a positive way, but he forgot all about Elizabeth and had disappeared into his office soon after hearing that-after delivering a swift lesson to Gisborne.

After Vaisey's departure, they were the only ones at the breakfast table. For the first few moments, silence was between them. Then, Elizabeth decided to break it; she had always been too talkative for her own good.

"The Nightwatchman has appeared, then?"

Guy looked at her with a look of pure irritation.

"_No_." Then, he glanced at the door, before continuing, more silently, "If I had not said that, the Sheriff would have, instead of going to fume about the fact the Nightwatchman has returned again, fumed over the fact that you couldn't have kept your mouth shut."

She raised a half-teasing eyebrow; "And you would lie to the Sheriff to prevent me from being harmed? I thank you, but I believe I can handle him--"

His expression darkened significantly, and he got up from the chair, leaning over the table, drawing nearer to her. Though she thought it would not-promised it would not-her smirk slowly faded and she felt her face become oddly hot. Looking away, of course, was out of question, and deep inside she did not believe she could do it. There was something on him so-_fascinating, _she laid hold on herself thinking. _Fascinating._

"_Handle_ him? Handle him like you did you two days ago?" His voice was a snarl, "If I hadn't held you, you would have hit him, it would have been worse for you. Now, I save you again, milady, and you go on and make it worse for yourself again. You _cannot _handle the Sheriff."

_He is still so fucking fascinating, _"I'll slit his throat in his sleep if he repeats what he did then once more." She whispered, feeling her heart hammering in her chest. Wasn't that what she always said she would do if mistreated by a husband? As it was, she could barely focus on that matter. Something was distracting her; though she could not imagine what and why.

Guy snorted, still unmoving; "And have entire Nottingham burnt down? No. I don't think so. You, my lady, agreed to marry Vaisey, and now your fate is tied to his. He goes down, you go down with him. Which means you have to swallow your tongue here and there; especially when he is in a sour mood. And drop the pride. _You _were the one to say it would all have been in vain if you left him. The same goes for killing."

_If you only came a bit closer._

Where the hell was that coming from? Elizabeth blinked rapidly, adding a quick _No _to her track of pondering. Whatever the latter was, it was nothing she would pay heed to when she was being told by someone that she was unable to defend herself from someone-anyone. Raising her head, she tried to have her glare be as challenging as it could. She could have only hoped to have succeeded in that endeavour.

"I have no intention of leaving him. Or killing him." Saying that she would kill him_ had_ been the aftermath of the antagonism she felt for him. An empty threat. And she had been unusually distracted by…by…emotions? She supposed so. She was surprised at the fact that she was admitting her own mistake, to him, of all people, who had seen more than enough of her weakness, so she hurried to amend that, "But watch me, if he _dare_s to harm me again in any way." She hissed visciously.

Gisborne's expression was unreadable; the closest thing she could have associated it with was incredulity. For a portion of a heartbeat-which was how she measured time now, since it was, positively, the loudest steady sound in the dining hall-she was sure he was about to shout at her, grab her, even hit her. She was sure she had pushed him quite too far, and she breaced herself to be giviing him back whatever he delivered her.

But he, after doing nothing but regard her in the same manner for what seemed like forever, only looked away.

"That's what I used to say."

Elizabeth almost forgot about the part of her animosity meant for him. She was completely befuddled by how pained he sounded when he said it, and how he drew back, sitting down once more. Despite herself, she felt a bit of disappointment he had decereased their proximity. _Stop thinking of _that. This reminded her of a certain moment underneath the willow---and another one, underneath a window in London.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was void of any soreness once she finally found her words. Really, what did he mean? The Sheriff, evidently, had not harmed _him. _A' Dale would have told her that. Besides, it was obvious that Guy would not take any physical abuse from the Sheriff. Why would he? He was stronger than Vaisey, and even if Prince John did burn down Nottingham, Guy could easily run once he killed the Sheriff. Since he obviously was doing nothing of the sort, it must have meant that he wanted to remain here as Vaisey's Master At Arms, and he would not want that if—

"Nothing." Guy closed his eyes briefly, "Nothing. Enjoy your meal." He got up, and headed for the door. Elizabeth stared after him, suddenly bound by remorse for not being more thankful to what he had done for her. It had all begun, after all, with her stupidity and weakness in London. _I should not be feeling any remorese. Why? _Too many 'why's were currently torturing her. And she had a feeling he had some sort of secret to hide from her, which was why he was leaving her now.

'_Sir Guy, thank you for what you did for me.'_

It was on the tip of her tongue when the door closed behind him. She had truly wanted to say it. But it had come to her too late, so she returned her attention to her food, finishing it up before choosing to go for a ride.

When she came back, Allan informed her the Sheriff wished to see her in his office.

* * *

"_Peasants, _my lord?" Guy of Gisborne stared with bewilderment at Sheriff Vaisey, who looked strangely calm and smug.

"Yes, Gisorne. P-e-a-s-a-n-t-s. Peasants!" He sneered, "Consider it retribution for that failure that London was. It's high time the two of you did some proper work, don't you agree?"

"I am your wife. I did not know I was expected to be doing 'proper work' of this kind." Lady Elizabeth stated haughtily, but without the large dose of hostility that used to be ther before. Guy still felt very much like strangling her. If she was to be disposed of by the Sheriff, all of his idiocy at trying to keep her unharmed would have been in vain. While she had told him that she stood for any mistreating from Vaisey, for the sake of her well-being, it certainly did not seem that way. Unless this _was _her idea of being an obedient wife. Perhaps it was. With her, it would not have come as a surprise.

Vaisey's brows knitted together, "Oh, _really_? But you were oh-so-willing to do _im_proper work in London, _hmm_?" A menacing current entered his eyes, "You will do as I _say_." One of his hands rested on the human skull on his desk, "Or suffer the reprecussions."

Guy watched Lady Elizabeth, who seemed to be fighting an internal battle. _Remember your own words, fool. _He chastised her silently. Only a few hours ago, she was quickly to go against those. The memory of a crying, shaking Elizabeth telling him she had to suffer all life threw her way for power and money spawned before his eyes.

_Of course._

Her precious pretense. She had to hide who she was well. Even if who she was would have earned her less bruises. Elizabeth had already decided she would be the obedient wife in the end, long ago. But she had to make it look as if it came along as a grand difficulty for her. As if she did it for different reasons than she did. That was who she wanted to be. _Dimwit woman. _She would destroy herself sooner than unmask her true face to anyone.

"Gisborne!" At the Sheriff's shout, he flinched at turned his head towards his lord, "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, my lord." He replied mechanically, making Elizabeth leave his thoughts, "Certainly."

"Good." Vaisey smirked cruelly, "Then tell me what are you going to do after you get into your lovely disguises, eh?"

Stiffening, Guy bit on his upper lip. He didn't know. Henceforth, he prepared himself for a litany of _'grow a brain' _and _'grow a mind'_s. If the Sheriff did not fire him now, than it—

"My lord, you cannot expect us to pose as a_ married _Nottingham couple! And in Pitt Street, of all places!" Lady Elizabeth's protest was loud enough to make _the Sheriff _flinch, and Guy would have smirked, had the move of the lady not been utterly dumb. What did she think she was doing, did she not know how the Sheriff reacted—

_Ah._

All was suddenly very clear, and Guy found that it bemused him even more than the notion of her doing this for nothing. She had done it so he would hear the plan. Therefore, the Sheriff would not have any reason to call him brainless or to be angry with him. He looked at her again, but she kept her eyes firmly on Vaisey. Vaisey turned towards her, then his head snapped back towards Guy. After doing this for a few times, a stupefied visage plastered across his features.

"Well." His voice was teetering between amused and bitter; the embitterment probably there because he had no reason to berate Guy now, "I do expect you to do it. By what I see, the two of you already work _too_ well together." He entwined his hands together, leaning his elbows against the desk and his head onto the hands, "Elizabeth, go get dressed. Gisborne; stay."

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then closed it back again nearly as swiftly. With a curt nod, she left the room, the guards closing the doors behind her.

Guy realized he had gazed after her only after the sound of the closing was heard, and after Vaisey's eyes met his, with a familiar darkness within them. A darkness that meant a serious warning.

"Gisborne." The Sheriff's tone was foreboding, even though barely audible, "Make certain you never, ever play 'married couple' with her again after today, tomorrow and the day after. Once you have caught the Nightwatchman; and if you don't catch him, rest assured, there will be reprecussions; I will not see you anywhere near her."

"My lord," Guy was about to deny the Sheriff's suspicions-though he obviously regarded them as more than just that-but surprisingly, he did not find himself taken aback at their existance. _I've acted like a_ moron_, for no reason, _"I assure you, I have never thought of Lady Elizabeth in—"

"Silence!" Vaisey cut him off silently, but effectively, "I will not have any of your lies and excuses, Gisborne. If you were any other man who is my subordinate, I would have your head immediately. What I possess, I do not share, and never will." He slowy raised from the chair, "One-chance-Gisborne. _One chance."_ Then, as if merely changing clothes, he put on his most pleasant smile, "Off you go, now!"

"But, my lord—"

"_GO!"_

Only when he was out in the hallways did Guy remember to think on the new ploy of Sheriff Vaisey and what exactly he had gotten himself into. Ignoring, somehow, the fact the Sheriff suspected him for lusting after his wife, and that if he ever gave him reason to doubt something like that again, he would lose his head, there was also the problem of the Nightwatchman not being back. Another lie he had made up to aid Lady Elizabeth. _I truly have it appear as if I…care._

And now they had to play husband and wife. Among peasants, which meant-Vaisey had probably loved this part-they would have to put enough dirt on their faces so they were not recognized. Also, they had to succeed, while even them remaining undercover was doubtful.

_Why have I not remembered to mention any of these things to the Sheriff?_ He thought angrily, hitting one of the servants who had slipped and come into his way with his boot, _All I had thought of had been Elizabeth, and the few words that had come easily to her anyway, only that they happened to help my situation. _

_Has that one, insignificant night in London changed so many things that I don't actually despise her anymore-even with her darned mask back on?_

* * *

"HAH! I m'st say," Allan A' Dale choked out, between eating his apple and laughing out loud, and pushing away from the well in the courtyard on which he sat, "Ain't you two a pair!"

"Allan," Guy's tone was menacing to say the least, as was his glare. Elizabeth merely glared promptly, and then humorously placed her hands on her hips.

"What? We don't look like perfect peasants? Not even you could say that."

"Mmmm!" Allan finally swallowed what was in his mouth and waved his hands in gesticulaction, "Nay! I never said that! You two look like perfect-peasants. By the way," He cocked his head, eying them with skepticism, "The Sheriff said you two'd be playin' husband and wife."

They truly did look like perfect peasants. Elizabeth was wearing a dirty, blue-ish dress which fell straight down her legs, and had a bodice which was a bit too untight for her tastes. Guy was wearing a pair of black breeches and a white man's shirt-or at least it had been white once; now, its color was quite uncertain.

Both of them had dirt rubbed over their face; dirt and coal, so much that their skin looked a dozen shades darker. They had dirt on their hands, and on their necks. All in all, none were too pleased, but Elizabeth saw the fun in the situation. Guy did not.

"Mind your own business, Allan, _how many times_ do I have to repeat that to you?" He growled, heading towards Allan and landing a punch into his gut. Staggering, A' Dale spit out a mouthgful of chewed down fruit, somehow missing Guy's shoes and clothing.

Elizabeth let out an amused exclaim, shaking her head and clasping one hand over her face; "_Sir Guy!_ I mean…" She frowned, searching her brain for a nice one. Hmm..hmm…ah! It would work out fine, "I mean, _Jimmie. _How is that for a peasant's name?"

Allan's gasps for breath turned into more chuckles, but this time, he, still bent over, moved behind the safety of the well.; "Jimmie. _Jimmie."_ He withdrew underneath Guy's icy stare, "Oi, all right, all right."

"Don't scare the man workin' for the Sheriff, Jimmie." Elizabeth's immitation of the peasant talk was not good, "He might just have us all arrested."

It was her turn to be stabbed by blue eyes, and she found that she did not mind it as much. Guy folded his arms, still focused on her. She folded hers, too, a smile set on her face as she waited for what he was about to come up with,

"Now, I deserve a name, too, don't I?" She finally said, tired of waiting.

"How 'bout Belle?" Allan jumped in, trying to be useful-and charming. Elizabeth grinned at him.

"Why, it fits me most perfectly, kind sir." Gisborne should have come up with something as pretty after she had saved his hide from the Sheriff in the office about an hour or so ago. True, he had done the same for her, but she would have liked some gratitude, nonetheless.

A' Dale bowed a mock bow; "Milady…err…I mean, my peasant girl…if there was ever a name created that could glorify your marevllous existence and appearance enough, rest assured, I would find it, and—"

"_Humberta._"

Elizabeth and Allan looked at Gisborne in horror.

"_Humberta?!" _They both repeated in unison, and then went separate ways; Allan laughed hard, and she opened her mouth widely.

"That is unfair!" The complacent look on Guy's-Jimmie's-face had fury rising within her, "That name is a thousand times worse than Jimmie."

Guy sneered, and she saw his eyes glint, "Well. It fits you well." He said, proudly, "Besides, If someone hits you, you hit him back twice as hard, right?"i

Elizabeth pursed her lips, so that a cackle would not escape her. _Precisely; not like that stupidity written in the Bible. _Humberta. _Humberta._ That name carried along an image of a fat woman, and she despised it. But this was _funny. _She imagined herself, whit a face ten times plumper than hers already was, and she convulsed into laughter.

"You're right!" She managed, breathlessly, "Ah, but what _hilarity-_thought it is dreadfully low of you-," She wiggled her finger scoldingly at the still-smirking Guy, "Humberta and Jimmie! What's to be our family name-Greaston?"

"I like it!" Allan collected himself, "Not bein' funny, I do.

"Your opinion _does not_ count." Guy said wryly, but Elizabeth noticed his lips were still twitching somewhat, "I think Gresaton hardly qualifies as a proper family name, even for peasants."

"Don't count on that!" His right-hand man grimaced, "If one can be named John _Little…"_

"Humberta Bigger." Elizabeth pondered, "No, Humberta Biggerson. Bigger would be too obvious, right?" Allan and Guy blinked at her unanimously, and she rolled her eyes, "Hey, I have to have a maiden name, too. Unless…" Her forehead wrinkled, "Unless I am an _orphan_. Or, even better-a whore!"

Now, Allan's jaw dropped, and he cleared his throat, opening his eyes to their fullest capacity. Guy merely skimmed over her emotionlessly, shrugging his shoulders at A' Dale.

"Surprising? A true peasant, at heart."

"I'll say…"

"Ey! I'm still the Sheriff's wife, mind you, though I have to play yours, Jimmie. You two will show me respect." Allan bobbed his head obediently, grinning sheepishly, and Guy sighed impatiently, making a step forward.

"Let us head downtown. Allan," He turned to him, "You have to take us there and pretend that you have tortured us. You know which house you are to take us to, I suppose?"

"Yep!" Allan looked around for the three guards that were meant to help him 'escort' them, and waved them over, "Pitt street, close to the centre…meh, I know everythin'."

"Good."

Elizabeth cast a conspiratory glance at Guy, but he did not seem to be noticing it, or if he noticed it, he paid no attention to it. Hmph. Of course he wondered if Allan knew where to take them. _He _did not have the faintest idea, and she'd had to prevent the Sheriff from having proof for that. As they walked out through the gates, A' Dale enjoying barking orders, she wondered how their 'marriage' would look. They had three or four days. _This will probably show how it would have been if he had chosen me, not Ines._

Interesting. Or so she gathered. One way or another, the thought did not seem hateful to her. Especially now, that they had begun actually having fun in each other's company. At least that was the case with her.

_One way or another,_ whatever happened, she would remain Vaisey's wife, and he Ines' husband.

Not that anything was meant to happen…

* * *

"A veritable palace." Elizabeth commented sarcastically, standing inside her house for the following few days. Not just her house-her and Gisborne's. _Humberta and Jimmie's. _Towards which they were thrown by the 'cruel, unforgiving guards' and Allan A' Dale-who had made very certain his act was believeable, especially on Guy(and he would pay for that, she could tell)- after days spent 'in the Sheriff's dungeons'. Whose owners had been kicked out by the Sheriff because they could not pay the taxes.

Guy did not say anything. He merely huffed, and inspected the bed and the furniture. The bed, for there was only one, meant for a married couple. Elizabeth had expected that, and she felt queer excitement at the thought of how they would decide who'd sleep in there-or would they settle to truly-play it through?

_I did not just think that._

"At least we have food. And some coins." She continued, moving over to the small window, "Look, this is so dirty I can hardly see through it-and it is smaller than my head!"

"Not difficultly achieved." Guy muttered, leaning against the wall carefully. It made a cracking sound, and Elizabeth spun around at it.

"Careful, if you don't want to destroy our-castle in the sky." She snorted and chuckled at her own pun, "I only hope I'm not expected to cook."

"Oh? And who else would be? Me?" He observed her with a semblance of firm refusal, "No."

Wheezing, Elizabeth licked her lips, her hands on her hips. Looking at the floor made her see what truly dusty meant. The chairs also seemed to be in poor condition. God, this was beginning to lose some of the charm it had had before. They would not eat raw potatoes, and the only other thing they had were carrots and salad; would they have to live on carrots and salad? Meat-they did not even have meat.

"Do you even know how to work with the stove?" She questioned, aiming her attention at Guy once more.

Hanging his head slightly, the depicture of a very annoyed man, he nodded.

"Yes."

"Good." Elizabeth frowned, "Good." It was good. At least they had something to start with, now, "I'll head to the market, then, and you take care of the stove—"

"_Market_? Have you lost your mind, mil—Humberta?"

Damn him; she was about to laugh again, but she shut her mouth closed tight, "Do you have any better ideas, Jimmie? Or perhaps you fancy eating raw potatoes and carrots--"

Warily, Guy glared at her, as if she was out of her mind. That irked her, "_What_?" She spat, beginning to wish she had somehow gotten out of this arrangement.

The are-you-stupid-or-something-simillar look lasted a bit longer, and just when she was ready to explode, he spoke;

"If we want to '_catch the Nightwatchman'_, then he has to come to our house first, to bring us food. And why would he do that, if we went and bought ourselves a minor feast at the market?"

_Catch the Nightwatchman._

For the first time, ever since Vaisey had told her what would they be doing and why, Elizabeth had actually thought back upon it.

And then, two realizations sank in.

One; all she had thought since she had left Vaisey's office had been how she had aided Guy masterfully, and how he must have escaped Vaisey's anger because of that. When she had heard the plan, even, she had forgotten all about it, merely repeating it like a parrot for _his _sake. She had not even thought on _herself _and how to get away from it.

Two; Guy had made up the Nightwatchman's return, in order to save _her _from Vaisey's anger.

At that moment, she fully understood their situation.

She would have let out hysterical laughter, had she been alone or had she been regarding two other people captured by the same circumstances. Now, she did not let it out. It _escaped_ her.

"I thought we were supposed to hate each other." She said firmly, a quizzical look in her eye.

"We do hate each other." Guy replied matter-of-factly, looking at the window, if it could have been called a window at all. Elizabeth swallowed, shaking her head, her hair tickling her nose; she pushed it away vexingly.

"Obviously. We ended up here because we deliberately tried to put one another into this position, and we were both succesful." She pretended to be very busy, paying special attention to her nails. For some stupid reason or another. Then, she glanced up, to see his attention was back on her, "We'll have to find someone to arrest for being the Nightwatchman, then. And pray the real one does not appear."

A peasant, they'd need to find. Someone who would have had access to all the food and the medicine. With decent fighting skills, also, since the guards had had a few run-ins with the Nightwatchman. His willing admittance would not be difficult to arrange, once they did find the individual. _Our heads or his._

They had three days.

"Someone who would fit the criteria. Not overly easy, but not impossible, either." Guy shrugged.

"Yes." Finally biting down onto the bit of her nail that would not fall off, Elizabeth let out a frustrated growl and twirled around, "God, this would have been so much easier if I'd just slept with John!"

_Agreed. _Go ahead and say it, she thought, so we can have a nice argument and then go seek out our victim. Say it. _Say it! _

Instead of harsh words, she felt soft lips on the right side of her neck, uncovered by her hair.

Respiring abruptly, she felt shivers coming down her spine-pleasant shivers, as the shock came in. It had to be Sir Guy. She had not heard footsteps, but she had been too caught up in the events. She had not paid any attention. Who else could it have been but him, when no one else was in the room-_the house_-ah, they were all the same! It had to be Guy, it had to, she _wanted it to be Guy, _and as his tongue moved over her skin, she wanted it all the more.

His mouth made its way over to her lips, and then she saw him, leaning over, and pulling her into a deep kiss. Elizabeth felt elation stream through her, more elation than she had felt when they had kissed when they had not hated each other. _I am kissing Guy of Gisborne. _It felt so nice thinking it, it felt even better doing it. And he was kissing _her_; this time, he had kissed her _first_.

They broke apart when they had no more air left, their gazes meeting each other only briefly before he pulled her into an embrace. He was actually_ holding_ her, willingly, not because she had thrown herself at him, her head on his shoulder, his cheek on her hair. Elizabeth could have felt his breath, and she could have felt goosebumps all over herself. _What if he had just pretended? What if someone was passing by and he merely wanted that someone to…to…not to notice use? _The paranoid part of her turned on right away. Yes, she had to be read for that, too—

"You bring out the worst in me."

His voice, so rough, so deep, so angry-just the way she adored it. And adore it she did, particularly now. As a matter of fact, she discovered herself in wanting to go on where they had left off.

"What a great honor." She breathed, feeling his heartbeat against her own.

He paid her little consideration, solely advancing with his deduction,

"You do. When I am around you, I lie, deceive, risk innocent lives…and I am more than ready to take them. You have me enraged, mad, you have me lose my temper and you sometimes have me divulge things I never would. The worst part of it is—" He grasped her head with his palms, setting her so they were face to face, so she could look straight into his blue, turbulent eyes, "The worst part of it is, recently you make me want to _kiss you._" And then, to her utter astonishment, he smirked at her and went on without a hint of mockery, "And I despise you, you know that."

He kissed her briefly, and she smiled, too, wider than ever-save for, perhaps, when she had dubbed him the name of Jimmie.

"Show me how much you despise me, then."

Guy seemed to be almost surpised that she had said that; surprised that she had not refused him or attempted to excuse herself with her marriage. But the surprise went away soon enough-Elizabeth did not expect of him not to take the chance once offered, if he truly wanted her. And she, so tightly pressed against him, could have felt he did. Literally.

They somehow moved over to the bed, which squeaked underneath their weights. Elizabeth was impatient to get the clothes out of their way; she was very content they were dressed as simple peasants. His kisses were all over her, as were his hands; she was out of her outfit in mere seconds. Guy had to take his off on his own, partially; she had never been overly able with her fingers, so she'd barely managed to get him out of his shirt.

By the time the sun set, a couple of hours and a lot of satisfied screams later, she was lying as close to him as when they had begun, her legs around his waist, enjoying playing 'husband and wife' with him more than she ever would have expected to.


	10. Because I Do

**NOTE:**_In this chapter, find out how 'Jimme & Humberta' manage in Pitt Street, and where the completion of their task carries them. :)) Enjoy!_

**Chapter Ten**

The sun barely made its way through the dirtied window, to place its rays upon the face of a sleeping Elizabeth Vaisey, leaning over the back of an equally unconscious Guy of Gisborne. Of course, in all the dirt they had been forced to cover themselves in, it was hardly visible they were the ones; especially considering the shabby, one-room cottage in Pitt Street they were located in. Which had been the point of their disguise.

Elizabeth was the first to wake, opening her dark eyes, taking in her surroundings, and upon recalling the events that took place last night, she smiled to herself with squealing delight. Not that she actually squealed.

She was acting like a stupid little girl, not a grown, married woman, but it made her feel happier than ever. A memory of herself being delighted at the kiss _she _had dealt Sir Guy more than a year ago, after their first night in Nottingham, now seemed so distant and small, compared to this. Now; she actually had him, in a much better way; _Ines' husband_. Even though he 'had _chose _her', as she'd put it herself that day. Hah! Blinking a few times, to reassure herself this was real-_stupid little girl, indeed, why wouldn't it be?-_she moved, feeling Guy stirring below her. Recalling their disguises, she chuckled, pushing herself over him so she'd be next to his ear.

"Hello…_Jimmie_."

Guy turned his head at the coy voice, looking up at the grinning Elizabeth. Groggily, he snorted, the sound not empty of amusement, "Humberta."

Now, it was his turn to remember. It took less than seconds, and he closed his eyes again, realizing just what they had done.

No way in hell would he have expected for this to occur. He had expected for them to spend three days fighting, bickering and figuring out what to eat. He had expected them to return to the Sheriff with the news that the Nightwatchman had gone away, again; and to face some of the reprecussions Vaisey had promised them.

Then, Elizabeth pointed out what was rather obvious, now that he considered it; they had gotten in there because he had tried to rescue her._ She_ had said she had tried to rescue him, too, but he had done it for more times, and he had made more important rescues. The bottom line was, though, that they supposedly hated each other.

It was at that moment that something had caught hold of him. There she was, standing before him, casting a jest, her hands on her hips, her hair in disarray and all the dirt of Pitt Street on her face. And he became very much aware of the truth that lied in what she was telling him.

_Rescue. It _reminded him of Marian. Marian, and all the times he had helped her avoid terrible fates Vaisey would have prepared for her. Marian, and her grateful, large, green eyes that would look at him with suspicion, surprise and something else, something he had hoped was genuine care. He still hoped it had been that, and tried to think of it as little as possible, not to endanger that belief.

Elizabeth, when he rescued _her_, looked at him with gratefulness, to some point, but not a trace of what Marian had had in her eyes. She would look at him with more fire and amusement and tons of emotions, and soon they would be back to the way things were-one thing in common with Marian.

Yet he had persisted in helping both of them, when he could. No matter how different they were.

Very different.

'_We'll need a peasant to arrest as the Nightwatchman.' _Guy had thought, returning to the matter at hand; or attempting to return to it.

Marian would never have considered such a thing. Marian would have sooner died herself than risked the life of someone who had not done anything, especially a poor peasant. Marian would have _blamed him _for thinking such thoughts.

"_We'll have to find someone to arrest for being the Nightwatchman, then. And pray the real one does not appear."_

Elizabeth, on the other hand, had _spoken _those thoughts aloud.

That had confounded him beyond belief.

Next to him, stood a woman who was more than ready and willing to dispose of someone else so she-and he, in this case-would be safe. A woman who was capable of making the choice of herself when it was between her and someone else. A woman who did not stick blindly to morality, justice, right, wrong, nobility, honor, ethics-who did not _judge _his thoughts and choices.

She _thought _his thoughts.

Some of this, he had seen before-the fact she was selfish, the fact she was not honorable or a woman of great morale. Because that was her pretense, what she wanted the world to see, the pretense he despised so much. Of being strong, ruthless, etcetera.

But never before had it hit him that she thought his thoughts. Or it had, but he had tried denying it.

Her pretense was what marked her as what she was, despite all the things that may have lied beneath. The fact that she _had chosen _the pretense over the other; it said a lot about her. For one, that she was nothing like Marian. In this case, Marian would have used all she had to persuade him not to go and make someone blameless be executed. And disappointment would have filled her eyes at his proposal. Elizabeth had been the first to make the proposal.

Elizabeth, as Marian had brought out the best in him, brought out the worst in him. For Marian, he had lied, deceived and all that, but he had done it for the cause of what she had called _'good'-_not that it had been his intention_. _For Elizabeth, he had done it for her, too, he supposed, and she was (to some extent) grateful for that, and just that, not caring about good or bad that had gotten in the way. With Marian, he had controlled his temper, with Elizabeth, it was more infuriating than ever. Just as her own-a part of her he doubted she had to pretend about.

_In my line of work, I need the worst more than the best._

Elizabeth knew how to welcome what he did for her, welcome his intentions, not care about who else got hurt in the way. She did not put whatever he did for her apart and inspect every aspect of it-no matter what she said, she did value the simple fact it had been done for her. As a matter of fact, he was certain that if he killed for her, she would truly take it as the grandest compliment. She argued with him because it was tradition more than because they were so different. She made it easier to aid her than Marian ever had.

"_God, this would have been so much easier if I'd just slept with John!"_

One sentence that had reminded him of the night in London; and of his wedding day with Marian. Back then, on the wedding day, he had wondered what it would have been like to be truly understood. In London, he had seen that Elizabeth understood. Or at least, had the capacity to understand. Understand, instead of trying to change him and make it all the harder for him. Because sometimes, it was demanding as it was.

That sentence made him walk over to her, and, before knowing what he was doing himself, kissing her on the neck.

Now, she was doing the same to him, and he opened his eyes again, looking at the cottage they were to live in for the following three days. The following moment, he wished he hadn't, because it pulled his train of thoughts in the direction of their mission. And Sheriff Vaisey.

Turning around and extending his hand to push Elizabeth away, Guy sat up in the bed, letting out a long sigh.

Elizabeth was sitting as well, not bothering to cover herself, looking at him with confusion and a dose of apprehension, "What is it?" She asked suspiciously.

_She must be thinking I am about to dispose of her, _"Nothing." He hurried to say, giving himself a mental slap-he was too eager to lie to her for her sake for it to be healthy, obviously. Meeting her gaze, which was still doubtful, he shook his head, "Vaisey. He said…that he would have my head if he ever caught us playing…married couple…again."

Her brow went higher than he would have thought it humanely possible, and he nearly simpered at the sight.

"Again? I thought this was our first time." There were pimples on her cheeks, "Was it?"

"Hmph." Now, Guy did smirk, "Just like you, not able to recall. Further to the point-we can't be discovered."

For a few moments, she was silent, and looked at him sideways.

"Woud he…_really_ kill you?" She finally said, somewhat haltingly.

Guy leaned his head against the wall behind them, his eyes on the roof. Not a pleasant topic. He wished he could say no. But deep down, he knew that the Sheriff would do it. Not just deep down; he knew it quite clearly. He would kill him over a woman he did not even like. Because she was his possession. And, in a manner, so was Guy-but a possession, easily replaced.

The quiescence becoming too long, he was about to address her and reply, when he felt her hand-which did not have the gentleness Marians' had- land on him-just below his chest. _Damn it._

"Guy…oh, I mean Jimmie…" She was frowning, her voice serious, "How did you get this?"

He could have said a lot of things; a fight, an accident, it happened ages ago. Instead, not knowing with what motive, upon meeting her questioning eyes, he merely swallowed, speaking in what he had not intended to be a whisper, but it came out as such.

"He _would_-kill me."

Elizabeth did not raise her hand from the burn. She could not tell whether or not it was fresh, but she was very distinctly returned to the event of some days ago, when Vaisey had called them to his office. A scream she had heard; and prayed it had been Vaisey screaming.

Then Guy's eyes met hers, as turbulent as ever, and she realized it had not been Vaisey.

His whisper sounded…wounded. And she, peculiarly, was immediately reminiscent of their conversation during breakfast, yesterday-though it seemed such a long time ago. She'd been certain Guy would never take any physical mistreatment from the Sheriff. This was plainly evidence for the other side of that statement. So that was what he had meant; and it couldn't have been the sole time.

Firstly, she just stared with disbelief. Then, acrimony burst into her.

Vaisey was a bastard. Guy did all his work for him. He never disobeyed him. He was loyal to him, and he _obviously_ had no intention of abandoning him no matter what the Sheriff did. Had anyone else gotten this kind of treatment, Elizabeth would not have cared, but—

_But I do care about Guy._

_I think. I shouldn't._

Though it felt good.

Straightening her back, she folded her arms, "Forgive me, but the Sheriff is a pig." So what if she cared about him. He was not disgusted by her, so she was not pining after him in vain, and that was fine. Besides, he never had to know that she---_IF _she began caring more.

Guy did not say anything; he remained silent, and looking at him, she caught herself wanting very much to throw herself into his arms and tell him everything that was on her mind-like she had in London. But she stopped herself. That would not have been like her, acting like a ninny _again_. She had sworn something like that outburst would never appear in her life again. _I should not think of that with so much affection; I should not want it. I should be ashamed of it. _

Instead of throwing herself, she dragged herself closer to him, leaning against his shoulder.

Maybe he needed comfort more than her. Elizabeth did not remember seeing anyone of his family other than Isabella, his sister, who did not seem to be too loving a sibling. Vaisey was the closest thing he could have to a father, in that case-and he carried all the promises of power and wealth along. Power and wealth Guy wanted just as she did. If not more. Vaisey had been the true reason to the death of Marian, the woman Guy had loved. _Had loved, thankfully. _A part of Elizabeth suddenly felt glad she was dead. In spite of all, promises of position and money, and other things, tied Guy to Vaisey.

_And now I tie him to Vaisey, too._

Of all those things she could have said, she chose none. She did not wish to think she was one of the things that tied him to Vaisey, because she was selfish-she did not want to bring it out in the open and have the risk of him going away from her. _Why would I mention it like a fool? Of course_ I_ don't tie him to Vaisey. And why would I go telling him, practically, to leave me, when neither would want that? _Or at least, she realized, she hoped he would not want it.

She did not want to tell him to abandon Vaisey because it was very clear to her why he remained by his side, and that lessons on that would only bother him. They were both where they were, these were they lives, and all they could do was make the best out of them.

"If we want to save our heads, we'd better start looking for our Nightwatchman, Jimmie."

* * *

The knock on the door interrupted Elizabeth in her attempts at cutting carrots and potatoes. She had no idea what to do with them, save for throwing them into the water and waiting until it boiled. Of course, for that, she needed Guy to have the stove working for her, and he had been gone in pursuit of their object for two hours now. She had half a mind to go out and look for him, but then she remembered that she would probably get lost in Pitt Street. Besides, there was no way Guy could have been recognized; if he had, the peasants would not have dared to harm him, and she had added new layers of dirt onto his face. She'd also tried rearranging his hair, which had resulted in salves of laughter(from her) and angry growling(from him). She'd paid for her fun when he had rubbed coal into _her _face_ and_ hair.

With an eyebrow up, wondering why would Guy be knocking and deducing it most likely wasn't Guy, at all, she headed for the door and opened it.

At the doorstep was a short man, nearly as dirty as she fancied herself to be, skinny and-her nostrils flared slightly-stinky. _We at least stink like coal and dirt, not like…whatever this is. _He was wearing clothes that, as Guy's shirt, had once, long ago, been white-or brown? Behind him, stood a woman who was taller than him for a good head, and was halding a small, naked, sullied child. They all(save for the child) seemed to be trying to smile, but it looked more like they were crying. Uncertain of what kind of an expression she produced, Elizabeth looked at them.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

All of them(even the baby) exchanged glances, without a hint of subtlety. Then, they returned their attention to her, who was now positively bemused. Or amused? A mixture.

"Yeah. We're the Tenners-live next door." The man motioned at a shack in a worse state than their own, his speech completely different than hers-distorted and unpleasant to the ear. Elizabeth's eyes trailed in the direction of his. _Your house doesn't _have _a door. _

"Ah. I see. We're neighbours, right?" She smiled at them, "How can I help you?" _Again._

She almost expected them to exchange glances like the last time and, ironically, they did. Even the baby. _Where is Guy now? I'm doing all the work here, keeping up our disguise. _

"Yeah. Let's enter. Talk." Obviously an illiterate person, he made a step forward. Elizabeth let him in, ceasing to breathe as he and his wife, a yellow haired, plump woman, passed by. She closed the door and was about to offer them to sit down, when she saw they had already helped themselves.

The woman and the baby were even sitting on their bed.

"Excuse me." Elizabeth headed towards them, "I have to fix the bed, if you could go sit over there, on the chair…?" She inclined towards the chair and grasped the covers, getting a distinct feeling the woman did not understand her words. The moving of the surface she sat on did the trick, then, for Mrs. Tenner got up and, slowly, sat next to her husband.

"There!" Elizabeth sat on the bed herself, making certain it was not touched by them again-it was grimy enough, "So, you wanted to talk about something?"

Tenner was looking around, as if evaluating their house. Elizabeth frowned on the inside; they did not intend to try robbing them, did they? Both she and Guy had taken their daggers along. If the Tenners dared to try anything, they'd pay there and then, and afterwards, upon their return to the castle.

The baby was, at least, sweet, despite the fact it needed a bath. Maybe they weren't malicious, at all; maybe they were just a family, trying to be friendly with new neighbours.

"How'd you end up 'ere?" Tenner replied to her smile.

"Me and my husband?" Ah, this was fun! The tale they had prepared; well, she had done most of the preparing. Removing her smile, though now she really wanted to smile, she nodded her head, "We've just arrived. Well, not really. We arrived about a week ago…I think, you see. We were hopin' to find jobs…or just live on the streets, because our old house was burnt down…" Along the way, she decided that trying to take on an accent now would have been stupid, "…Near Clun. An accident, I was tryin' to cook and it happened…" Yawning, but keeping her mouth closed, she brought tears to her eyes, "Oh. Well, we came here, and we were arrested before we even entered the city…a guard accused us of stealin' from him, but we said we didn't know the purse of coins that had fallen of was his, honestly. So, we were taken to the dungeons…and kept in there for a week, until the guard found his coinpurse somewhere else, and that _had not_ been his in the end…I guess he took pity on us. With the coins…Jimmie and I had the money to pay for taxes, unlike the poor souls who used to live here before us…" She bent her head as much as she could, "So we were allowed to move in."

"You have food."

Elizabeth was taken aback. After her brilliant performance, all that the Mrs. Tenner could say was 'You Have Food'? No pity, no sadness, no compassion? No wonder Vaisey did not like the peasants. _Though they probably have troubles of their own._

"Yes…, we do. We found it. Here." She had her voice sounding shaken still.

Tenner shook his head.

"We're friends with the old own'rs. We took all there was when they're kicked out."

"Didn't the Sheriff's men take all there was?" Elizabeth bit her tongue. Never mind it; it was a valid question, after all. She wished Guy would come already. These people were annoying.

"No. Strange._ We_ took it." Oh, yes, they were annoying, both the man and the woman. So what if they had food in the house? They could work, the Tenners, and then they'd have food, too. There was always work, people only had to make an effort to find it.

"Well, all right." Elizabeth stopped with her pleasant mask, "I do not see why our food matters. What did you want?"

The Tenners did not even draw back at her change of demeanour. Their faces still with the same countenance as when they first appeared, they focused on her. Mrs. Tenner spoke.

"Food. We're hungry."

Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows, staring at them in blank shock. Food? They wanted food? What were they thinking, coming into the house of someone who was supposed to be as poor as they were, asking for their food?

"We need our food." She stated, with a light huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

These people were incapable of moving their face features. Cry-smiles still plastered on them, the man and the woman, simultaneously, chanted.

"We need it more."

This was it. They could be poor, they could have a small child which was sweet, but they had no right to come in and demand someone else's food. She got up from the bed, relocating her hands to her hips. All they knew, she was also a peasant! They could not know that she-her husband-owned Nottingham. Either way, no one was making a fool out of her.

"You cannot possibly claim that. You are not getting any food from us. _We_ need it. It is ours."

"We need it more."

"Then you aren't getting it!" Now, she was beginning to seriously lose her calm, hoping the house of the Tenners collapsed on their heads. Excepting the baby, "Now, if there is nothing else, I am very busy."

Unexpectedly, the Tenners rose to their feet, too. Instantly, she thought they would attack her, and readied herself, but they just stood where they were.

"You help us clean the street—"

The door opened and Guy walked in. _Finally. _Elizabeth felt relief, and she briefly forgot about what exactly Mr. Tenner had said. Beaming at Guy, meeting his inquisitive gaze, she turned back to them.

"This is my husband, Jimmie. Jimmie Greaston."

"Humberta." Guy had never quite agreed on the last name, so there was a threatening edge to his tone, "Who are these people?" He had, at least, been succesful in making his voice sound different; as if his throat was sore.

"They evidently expect us to help them-clean the streets?" Now, they had her fullest attention then, and the outrage of what they had asked reached to her, "I believe we have business of our own to tend to."

Mrs. Tenner shook her head slowly, and for a long time-Elizabeth nearly laughed into her face. She looked like a madwoman.

"Everyone cleans the streets. A rule, it's."

It was Elizabeth and Guy's turn to exchanged glances as the Tenners had before, both, she gathered, feeling the same at the moment-these people _deserved _higher taxes.

"We won't be cleaning the streets. We've just arrived, and we have work to do." Guy tried to sound as pleasant as he came-which was rather cold, and she was glad for it.

Mr. Tenner was unsatisfied.

"You must."

Elizabeth felt her heart skip an angry beat. _You _MUST?

"Of course we don't have to. There is no such law, and we only pay taxes for this house, so the rest is not our concern!" Marching over to the door, she opened it and stepped aside, "Now, if you would please-we require privacy."

The Tenners, like two clowns, horrible, ugly, terrible clowns, just stood there, dim-wittedly, and stared ahead of them.

"_Mr. and Mrs. Tenner_." Elizabeth raised her voice, but Guy was more effective. Walking towards them, he grabbed them both by the collar and began pushing them by the door. After a few steps, they began to walk themselves, and, without a sound or a stray look, they were out of the house. Elizabeth shut the door closed-only to feel it being pushed back at her. She leaned over, to see the Tenners, with the baby disappeared, pushing in order to open it again.

"GET OUT!" Guy roared, closing the door onto the fingers of Mrs. Tenner. Elizabeth sought around for a key, and found it on a piece of wood that could have been called a trunk. Quickly, she grabbed it, and turned it in the keyhole.

"Blasted peasants!" She shouted after the Tenners. After a few seconds, during which she and Guy stood by the door, breathless, footsteps were heard. The Tenners, good riddance, had left. At last.

"Phew." Elizabeth shook her head, her hands on her waist, "How dared they--! These people, I swear, deserve all that Vaisey gives them."

Guy ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath.

"They have to be put in line." He said, not nearly as whole-heartedly as herself. Most probably because he had not been around them ever since their arrival.

"Eh. I certainly hope I don't see them again." She moved over to where she'd been cutting the vegetables; the same kitchen table where the Tenners had sat, "Ew!" She had to wave a hand in front of her noce, "They left behind the stench, Guy—Jimmie."

She could have felt him smirk, "And they blame me when I am cruel to them."

Elizabeth spun around, cheerful stupefication on her face.

"Was that a joke?" She requested, "I rarely hear you joke; save for those times when you say I'm stupid and that you hate me."

Guy looked at her with amusement and seriousness at the same time, "I do not joke then."

Lowering her head and bestowing upon him, with flashing eyes, a breakneck glower, she forgot all about the food and approached him, wrapping her hands around his neck and kissing him. It was so refreshing, having someone to kiss whenever she wanted. _It should have happened sooner._

"The Tenners made me lose my appetite, anyway." She said as she pulled away. She was about to kiss him again, but he stopped her by placing a hand on her chest. Her brow furrowed, but he spoke before giving her enough time to suspect.

"I haven't found anyone."

_Their task._

Elizabeth bit on her lower lip, "No one at all?"

Guy shook his head, pacing over to the stove; "_One_ man could have had access to the food-a tavern owner-but he is old and barely capable of moving. The rest of them are all either too bad fighters or unable to get their hands on the supplies. I'll check if the tavern owner has any sons…" He massaged his temples with his fingers, "Later today."

Elizabeth sighed, placing one hand on her shoulder while biting the nails; as dirty as they were, on the other, "It makes you wonder how the real Nightwatchman got to the food, doesn't it?"

"If we had known_ that_, we would have caught him years ago."

She shrugged, "Maybe we will actually catch the real one; by accident. Perhaps he's gone into retirement."

Guy looked at her skeptically; "Certainly."

"A joke. Jimmie." She rolled her eyes, taking a look around, "Well, we might as well eat something. Set the stove for me?"

Reluctantly, he did so. An hour later, they were eating what tasted like-crap. Elizabeth could not even tell the carrots from the potatoes, and she missed the castle and the luxuries like hell. But she felt she could have endured _some _more time here; with Guy.

And without, of course, the Tenners.

* * *

"_That? _The Nightwatchman? Are you sure he can even use a fork and a knife properly?"

"I believe him being an excellent fighter is not as necessary-after all, he has been _retired _for almost a year."

Elizabeth frowned, squinting to be able to see through the tavern window. They were located in an alley in Pitt Street, which happened to offer the view into the mentioned building. The subject of her scrutiny was a thin, lean man, or rather boy, whom they had just seen run into the tavern at the speed of light. Or, at least, Guy had seen him. Considering that they had been wandering around the slums to no avail for two days, and they only had one to make an arrest or be arrested-most likely-seeing someone who had both good legs and the ability to run remotely fast was welcoming.

"You have a point." Their spirits had rised when the boy had hugged the tavern owner with affection. A son, obviously. Elizabeth felt something gnawing at her heart as she watched them embrace again. _No. It's you or him. _To amend for the breif spout of conscience, she added, "We could, perhaps, have him lose a few fingers, making that reason to his retirement…"

Guy craned an eyebrow, "Useless. I think it shall be safe to say he just chickened out. Due to our constant attempts at catching him."

"Hah!" Elizabeth flicked her hair playfully, content again, "Really? All right. Now, we need a story. How did we catch him?" She raised a ponderous finger to her chin. Guy's eyes travelled from the 'Nightwatchman' to her, and she knew he considered her _very_ humorous, currently. Hmph., "You could be of some use, too, you know-I have to think of all."

"You?" Now she had his full attention, "Who was the one to find the boy in the first place?"

Elizabeth waved her hand, but beginnings of a smile were curving her lips. _Let him win this one. _After all, he had been useful; she was just saying what she was for the sake of argument. _Once we're back, I won't be able to let him win, anyway; Vaisey will find it suspicious. _Not that it was going to be a difficult play.

"All right, all right. How about him dropping off the food for us; me stalling him by going to thank him, and you knocking him unconscious from behind?" Comprehension passed over her features as she remembered, and caught his arm, "Guy, what about _the costume_?"

He frowned, "The costume, what--?" His expression darkened, "_Curses_."

Bewildered, Elizabeth clasped her hands, spinning towards the wall; "Great. Just great. We think of all, find our victim-_culprit_-and we forget the bloody costume! You--"

Guy looked at her hotly; "Don't-try to pin this on me." He grabbed her, by the waist and by the back, pulling her close. Elizabeth forced her mind to return to the ire of their problem, and failed miserably.

"We _both_ forgot."

They were not supposed to be kissing in the middle of the street, they were supposed to be worrying over their heads; which they were about to find severed, unless they found a way to fetch a costume first, but all Elizabeth wanted was for him to pull her even closer-and he did. She wanted to feel his lips agianst hers-and he was coming closer, closer, closer, and they were touch—

"Good luck you 'ave me, then!"

Both of them bolted, and turned towards the entrance to the alley.

There stood Allan A' Dale, dressed like an inhabitant of the slums, with a costume in his hands and a wide grin on his looks. A grin which, though he had just most likely saved them, had nothing to do with that fact.

Both of them were without words.

* * *

Allan had promised, under all the possible threats(delivered once the costume was snatched away from him) to remain silent about what he had seen-or suffer. _'Who d'you think I'm gonna tell, the Sheriff? Not bein' funny, but he'd kill _you_, and then I'd have to work for him, and I prefer even you, Giz."_ Elizabeth had chuckled, Guy had managed to withhold from murdering him on the spot. _'Besides…I think you two're good for each other. Honest!' _He'd winced, "_Ey; or bad. For me, at least. But you look nice together, that's the point!'_

It was nearing midnight, and the Nightwatchman was already in the Sheriff's dungeons, most likely signing the confession. As for Elizabeth and Guy, they were to leave Pitt Street tomorrow, early in the morning. While both of them were sick and tired of this place, it was for two different reasons. Sick; the food they had to eat(and the Tenners, who had tried entering their house once more). Tired; the fact they had more interesting things to do than sleep for a certain part of the night.

Elizabeth was looking more than forward to the food and the comforts of the castle. She also knew she would be returning with a new sparkle of life-sparkled by the fact she and Guy would go on meeting. Secretly, of course. _Very secretly. _They would never again have this sort of freedom. Not that she felt regret because of it. Naturally, she would not risk all she had just to be able to sleep with him whenever she wanted or to kiss him at her desire. Damn; she was _risking _everything. She would not 'throw everything away' was a more apt expression. She'd sooner risk her life. _We'll have to be careful enough. Guy's life will be at risk, too. It cannot be avoided, the risk._

Guy gathered Allan, now that he knew, would be of some use in helping them remain unnoticed. Staying here did not even cross his mind. He'd have Elizabeth in the castle just as well, only not as much. He would never have her as much; she had a husband, and he a pitiful excuse of a wife whom he considered a blessing to see as little as possible. Her husband was more than ready and eager to kill, and he happened to be his superior. They would have to be careful. Keep up the hatred; that would not be hard on either of them. Hide, make certain they were never seen.

Or he could merely stop seeing her and end all his troubles thusly. His and hers.

"Guy?"

"Yes?"

"I am most likely to regret saying this. Do you truly wish to keep on with our meetings once we return to the castle?"

"You will regret it. Because I do."

"I was hoping for that."

The simplicity of the solution of ceasing all contact-well, there was no simplicity, thought it sounded as the easiest action in the world. They came here pretending they were lovers, now they would depart as actual lovers.

Elizabeth had wanted to say it might be unwise. She had thought of pretending she did not want this anymore, so that that she would not stand between the position and the power she knew Guy craved most. So that he would not ever lose all. So that she would never lose all. But she found that she wanted him. And selfishness won. _We will never actually stand between each other and our desires. Just because we sleep together-it doesn't mean that._

Guy had wanted to tell her he did not intend on keeping on with their meetings, because he had come this far and had no intention of doing anything to endanger his advancement. Or his life. Her life would be at stake, too; or at least something close to it. And her status, and power, which he knew she valued more than anything. But he said 'I do' instead, not comprehending his own reasons, himself. _We will mind our step-we will not be caught. We will lose nothing. _

_Moreover, we shall enjoy our power this way._


	11. Because Of You

**NOTE: **_An old enemy returns in this chapter. :)) And there's a very sweet part to it(the chapter). :)) Sweet and sad. :((( And luffly; to me, at least. :) _

_In this story, I was hoping to create an OC different from all the others I see in fanfiction; one that does not attempt to change Guy so he would join any 'just causes' ,one that does not truly believe in less cruelty towards peasants and Robin Hood's mercy. One that is selfish and one that _**wants**_ to be cruel and ruthless. :) If you want to offer any constructive criticism on how I fared in that mission, feel free to, it's welcome. :)_

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter Eleven**

"A boy!"

The Saracen woman, whose accent was thick even after more than a year spent in England, always reminding her of her homeland and therefore being much to her liking, had to raise her voice in order to be heard among the screams of the woman in labor and now the newborn baby. The latter, she wrapped in the carefully prepared blanket, already having cut off the cord with a sharp dagger that now hung on her side again.

"It is over now, milady!" The woman on the bed was still howling, apparently unaware that the birthing had passed and that she was now a mother. The Saracen hurried over to her side, handing her the squirming child, which was crying ferociously still, "There…it seems to have the lungs of the mother." She offered a smile, and the lady seemed to calm down gradually, setting her distressed eyes away from the roof, over her evident midwife, and finally to her offspring.

"Oh!" Tears of joy appeared, running over the beads of sweat and the tears of pain, "Oh, look at him!" Her accent was less noticeable than that of the Saracen. Taking one of the boy's small hands into hers, she managed to stop its weeping, and was genuinely surprised at her own success.

The Saracen laughed; "You are the mother." She responded to the confusion in the hazel eyes, "The child can feel that."

Lady Ines beamed widely, nodding her head repeatedly, and looking back onto her now peaceful son.

"But _look _at him, Djaq!" She breathed exasperatedly, "He looks like his father, don't you think? So similar…"

Djaq's teeth were so white they shone in the nearly complete darkness of the Locksley Manor, broken only by the candles that burned on the night table, "It's hard to tell when they're so young, but I think he might. In future."

Ines was nodding still, exclaiming softly as the baby turned its head round, towards her chest. Without any instructions from Djaq this time, she removed her nightgown, letting the little infant suckle-which he did, with strength.

"There." She chortled, "There. Ah, what a wonderful little baby you are!" She looked at Djaq, and suddenly there was some dolor in her eyes, "Why couldn't Robin be here?"

Djaq sighed, her face adopting a downcast expression.

"The rest of them…the rest of the gang. He had to go and find them."

"Find them?" There was distress in the voice, and Djaq, extended her palm.

"No, no…they are not doing anything dangerous tonight. He…" She hesitated, looking away, "He wanted to tell you himself. We will be assembling again."

Ines' eyes widened. Slowly, in disbelief, she shook her head, "No!" The sound finally left her, "But he cannot! That is dangerous! The people-everybody-they think he raped Elizabeth and killed Lady Marian! What if they tell…Guy? Or the Sheriff?" Fresh tears came, and Djaq placed what was supposed to be a comforting hand on her shoulder, "They would kill him! Like Scarlett. And Elizabeth—"

"Shh." Djaq consoled, "You will scare the baby. My lady," She drew closer, silencing her voice, "Robin is aware of the risks. I know that you do not see the plight of the people-the peasants of this land. But surely you see that it can't be going anywhere good with people such as Sheriff Vaisey and Guy of Gisborne running it. You _know_that." Ines did not rise her head, fixed on her legs or the child, "My lady," Djaq continued, "King Richard must be returned to the throne, and Prince John cannot be allowed to take it. With the King kidnapped…we can only _pray _we manage to raise that kind of money. I think it' is impossible. The people-all of us-need Robin more than ever; something to believe in. This child-" Her black eyes rested on the head of the suckling babe, "This child has a hero for a father. And you, my lady, love a hero. That can be difficult-I loved one, too- but it is a path you chose. He loves you, too."

Ines did not appear consoled. She was more peaceful, though, and her breathing had eased. However, after a few moments of silence, she glanced back at Djaq, fearful.

"What if Guy finds out? The baby looks like Robin, what if he sees the resemblance? He will…he will…." Panic crawled in, "Kill me!"

"Guy will not find out." Djaq assured her, with more certainty than even she felt, "If he does, Robin will think of a way to save you."

"Save me." Ines repeated, emptily. The pitching of her tone increased, "Save me, by claiming he raped me, _too_? He will be ruined because of me. Elizabeth will claim it was him, even though I know it wasn't, as she claimed it was Scarlett, when I knew it wasn't. For the money, I guess. If—"

"Lady Ines." The Saracen smiled again, "You know Robin. But you do not know Robin Hood." The grin widened before the puzzled Ines, "Robin Hood could sneak into Nottingham castle and take whatever he wanted at his worst. He would, if necessary, certainly find a way good for all to save you."

Ines exhaled abruptly; "Yes. Yes, he will. My Robin…" She drew in the breath, shaky, "Will you…" The hesitation was full of alarm, "Will he need my help?" The question was asked so quietly, it was obvious she did not want to take her chances and compromise her safety. But it had been asked, and Djaq, after a moment of pondering, opted for honesty and nodded her head.

"We will need all the help we can get. Fear not-it will not be needed right away. And Robin will never endanger you more than absolutely necessary."

"I know. I know." She wheezed, "Djaq, you should go. If Guy comes home—"

"Yes." She had a point. Djaq got up, heading over to the window, "The servants-they will keep quiet?"

"They will." A wry grin was on Ines' lips, "They don't like me-but they like my husband less. All they will tell him is that I had a medicine woman here. That's what they think, too, so it should not be difficult."

"Good." Djaq was already half-way through the window, but she stopped, "You are a brave woman, Lady Ines. Remain that way."

And in a mere second, she was gone, leaving Lady Ines of Gisborne with the son of that lady and Robin Hood in her hands.

* * *

The gallows in the courtyard of Nottingham Castle were ready for a hanging. A single noose swayed menacingly in the autumn wind, ready for the Nightwatchman's execution. It was to take place within a day, as soon as the admission was signed by Jack Marson, the son of the owner of a tavern in Pitt Street. The people that passed by would look at the gallows, shaking their heads sadly, some because they knew Marson, and some because they pitied the noble, kind Nightwatchman who had helped them all at one point in their lives.

His father had gone to plead for his life with the Sheriff, crying and begging, swearing that his son was not the Nightwatchman. He had even offered his own life in exchange. To that, Vaisey, in a good mood compared to his usual these days, decided that yes, he could give his life-just at the same time his outlaw of a son gave his. So, they were setting up another noose, for Timothy Marson, an elderly man.

"Ah!" Vaisey rubbed his hands against each other contently, watching the process from the window of his office, "Ah! Well done, Gisborne, well done, indeed. Not just one hanging, but two!" He twirled around to face Guy, "Always count on the family to join in and make things more interesting. The old man was so much fun I am nearly sorry I will kill him!" A widest simper, "A clue? No."

Guy smirked, himself, though he could not find the same glee in the situation as the Sheriff did. _'You have to learn to laugh at it, or you lose your mind.' _Elizabeth had said, amending it quickly with a series of claims that she had no such problem, naturally. She could have easily made a living as an actress.

"I am glad that you are pleased with my efforts, my lord." He replied flatly, without emotion. Actually, he _was _glad that the Sheriff was pleased with him. It was not something easily achieved.

"Of course you are, you'd be a fool otherwise-" Vaisey stopped himself, "No, you _are_ a fool, still. But you did well."

"Yes, my lord." It could not go without at least one insult.

Vaisey strode over to his chair, where he dropped, resting his legs on the table; "Now. The taxes will not collect themselves. Off with you, Gisborne! Bring me back some money!" He reached for his decorative skull, opening and closing the top, "Oh! And, Gisborne…_don't _let your wife return here with that child of yours. The last think I need is a brat screaming around."

With a nod, Guy turned around and left the room, glad to be out of it.

He would go collect the taxes, indeed. The villages of Locksley, Clun, Nettlestone; and he would stop by Locksley Manor, in order to see his wife and his newborn son.

Guy was actually looking forward to that part of the daily routine. Not because he cared for Ines, nor because he cared for the child. He saw no problem at all in keeping both of them as far away as possible.

It was because Lady Elizabeth had gone to Locksley, in order to visit her 'friend'. By what the messenger had told them, Ines was still tied to the bed, and there were plenty of rooms in the manor far away from the master bedroom. And with doors that were easily locked. Sneering to himself, he thought of screwing Elizabeth just a few rooms away from Ines. It _was _an amusing thought.

Guy's horse was already saddled, and he headed out with his men in a matter of minutes. In Nettlestone, they made six arrests, having the rest of the villagers eagerly give away whatever they had to avoid such a fate. In Clun, only two were defiant, while in Locksley all were obedient. All in all, the tax collecting took five hours, and it was afternoon when Guy reached Locksley Manor.

He had dispatched the prisoners back to the castle, together with the money, and his men. As he left his cloak with one of his servants at the entrance, he climbed the stairs, nearing the source of a woman's laughter. It was far too strong to be Ines', and upon opening the door, Guy was faced with the sight of his wife lying on the bed, and Lady Elizabeth sitting, holding up a gurgling infant that he supposed was his son.

All the three heads turned towards him as he entered.

"Guy!" Ines smiled widely, "You have come! Look-our son!"

Elizabeth got up, eying him with unabashed wickedness which Ines could not have seen, "Sir Guy." She was wearing red, and her corset had her breasts look even fuller, "Your son." She held it up, and the baby regarded him with curiosity. _Blocking the view to her chest. _Blinking that away, he focused on the baby. And felt nothing.

He had not supposed he would love his son. It was a son with Ines. He had, though, suspected he would feel at least some sort of-affection. Instead, there was nothing. Not even the slightest connection. The baby had blue eyes, probably after him, but he saw no familiarity inside them. The face; the face was just like that of any other child to him.

"It is a very beautiful baby, Sir Guy. You should be thankful it did not take after the father."

Ines giggled silently, and Guy wanted to glare at Elizabeth; but the baby was blocking the view.

"Thank you for the…compliment, milady." He thought of making her pay for this later, "I will be certain to return in the same measure once you are in a similar position."

Elizabeth breathed out impatiently, swinging the baby a bit, "For God's sake, take the child, Sir Guy!"

_Take _the child? Guy looked at her blankly, but before he was aware of it, the child was pushed forward. Instinctively, he extended his hands, and Elizabeth let go of it. The squealing creature was in his arms; and it actually began to squeal and cry.

Wincing, Guy looked around for help, but all he saw was a laughing Elizabeth and a smiling Ines with her stupid smile. It actually quite reminded him of the Tenners. The baby was moving more and more. The bed was his only chance. Guy hurried towards it, and just in time, for at one point, the baby turned to the right side and rolled off his hands like a pancake, leaving only the empty blanket behind.

"Eeh!" Ines's smile was gone, and she threw herself towards the boy, grabbing hold of it. While Elizabeth was still rolling with laughter, a deep shadow passed over Lady Gisborne's face; it might have been anger, but Guy had never seen his wife angry, so he could not have known.

She cradled the baby close to her chest, concern obviously etched over each and every bit of her features. Not knowing what to think of this, Guy stood unmoving next to her, regarding her with doubt. He had not done anything--

"Guy." She looked up from the nursling, whose cries had quieted down fairly fast, "You dropped our child! How could you? What if he had fallen, what if he had been hurt, what if he had _broken his neck_? Don't ever hold him again!"

Elizabeth's laughter died off, and Guy felt her standing behind him, on the side, agape at the actual fury in Ines' stare. He was surprised, as well, but he was also taken aback. The meek Ines, reacting this way? The strongest protest she had ever made had been _'I am very, very sorry, but I truly cannot, I hope there's no offense.' _

"Surely, Ines!" Elizabeth breathed, moving forward so that Guy could see the mildly knit brows on her face, "Sir Guy is clumsy, granted," At this, he threw away the blanket that was still on his hands, sighing desperately and pinching the bridge of his nose. Was she acting the animosity at all? He thought not, "But the baby is unharmed. Once you teach him how to hold him—"

"Don't!" Ines' screech brought his head up at a speed, "Don't." She looked almost mad, looking at Elizabeth as if daggers would jump out of her eyes any moment. Elizabeth froze, cocking her head, turning to face him. Shaking his head, Guy focused on Ines.

"Calm down. The birth has left you irrational. I will send for a servant girl to take care of—" He paused. How to name the child?

Guy had always supposed his firstborn would be named Roger. After his father. He had also supposed that he would feel at least something for his firstborn. _That doesn't matter at all. _In fact, that made a part of him feel relieved. Looking at the child in Ines' arms, he was briefly returned to the sight of his father walking out of the village, as a leper. Pushing the memory away, he looked away.

"Roger." Ines was about to expostulate, obviously not wanting to let go of the baby, but he cut it off before she began, "_Don't _object." Unusual-she had never been the one to object, "Rest." He turned around, casting a significant, quick glance at Elizabeth, leaving with long, decisive steps.

* * *

"Roger is a nice name." Elizabeth sounded, as she lied next to Guy in one of the guestrooms of Locksley, covered by nothing but a thin blanket, "Have you named him after a relative, or…?"

"My father." Guy leaned the back of his head on his hands, a distant look in his eyes, "He…died."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Sprawled on her stomach, she crossed her ankles in the air, pressing her lips together. Guy had never told her anything of his family; by what she knew, he did not have any living relatives. She had never heard anything of his dead ones, though, up until now.

_I don't have to expect to learn everything of him just because we have slept together for a few times. _

Still, she remained a very curious person. He had to have ended up with Vaisey somehow. One thing she knew for certain was that Guy had been with the Sheriff for a very long time. Where he had been prior to that was unknown to her. Gisborne…where was Gisborne, at all?

"Guy, where is Gisborne?" She settled for that question as a good one to start this sort of conversation without appearing too interested, though she did not know why was she aiming for that effect. Perhaps so that the disappointment, once he refused to share anything with her as she suspected he would, would be lesser.

His head reeled towards her, and she could have sworn there was suspicion in his stare, "Why do you ask?"

Elizabeth shrugged, feeling she might have touched a troubled subject. She ceased dangling her legs, looking at him with perplexion; "I'm just asking. No reason. Since I hardly know anything of you, and you know everything of me…"

"I don't." Guy seemed to have frozen, but his glare was as intense as ever, "I don't know everything about you." He pushed away from the bed, turning his back on her, "And Gisborne is here. It's…a part of Locksley."

"You do know everything there is to know." She sat up as well, stretching. However, her eyes never left him. This definitely was not a topic he liked. Elizabeth knew more than well how it was to have something you would never dream of discussing with anyone, but would want to convey to someone who would, preferably, make you feel better and then forget all about it. What she did not know was whether this was a matter of that kind for Guy. Leaving Gisborne lands be, she went on, "I am the fifth cousin once removed to the King of my land, my father is Lord Anton Horvat, my mother is Lady Patricia. We have an estate near the capital, but we live by the sea. My brother is Lord Ivan—"

"I don't like to discuss my family."

His back was still turned to her, and she could not see his face, but there was significant heaviness in his voice. This instantly admonished her of their first time in the cottage a few days ago. They had discussed his relations with Vaisey then. Elizabeth had no idea if Vaisey was in any further way connected to Guy's family, but she cringed at the hurt in his tone now just as she had then.

Was it because she cared, or was it because she merely wanted to know more, she was probably never to find out, but she discovered herself progressing towards him.

"I see. Guy," She was hardly aware she had spoken at all, but her arms were wrapped around his torso, "You can tell me, if you want to. I will keep it a secret if necessary."

That was true. There was no one she could tell, anyway. She did not have friends as close to gossip with them profoundly, and she doubted she would have ever spread rumors about Guy when there were rumors to spread about people she _de facto_ abhorred. Like Prince John-she only had to be cautious about how she did this.

And she had this urge to have him feeling better. Her mind did not dwindle too long on the meaning of her words, but on the tone of them. She could have felt him stiffen under her hands. She knew her voice had not been as soft as it could have been; it had had a sharp edge to it, but she knew he would not have wanted her to moan an cry over him. _He has his pride. _And she was not among the women to consider male pride stupid; she was among those who had male pride. Which was why she had a better perception of it.

He was quiet for a few heartbeats, then he shifted. Elizabeth was of the belief he was about to get up; and perhaps, for a moment, he was. Then he changed his mind, and sighed, relaxing.

"My father had gone into the Crusades when I was just a boy." _The Crusades. He must have died there. Religion is stupid, "_My mother was from France.." He hesitated, "Her name was Ghislaine. I also had a sister-Isabella." Yes, yes---she knew of Isabella; though she _had _forgotten for a short time, "We thought him to be dead. Then, one night, during a celebration, he appeared. Just when I'd…nearly been hanged for an arrow that was shot by Locksley." He spat the name.

Locksley? Elizabeth frowned, "Locksley? You mean, Robin Hood?"

"Yes. I mean _Hood_." This name earned equal contempt, "He thought his aim was perfect, but it was not. There was an accident and a man almost died. They blamed me, since he had taken my arrow."

"What a brat, Hood. What did they do to him when you told them the truth?"

She said gleefully, suddenly loving the idea of hearing how a boy Robin Hood got his arse kicked.

Guy looked up, holding off. What? Elizabeth wondered. Had Hood run away, or shot someone? Shot Guy?

"I didn't tell them."

_He did not tell them. _Elizabeth was genuinely amazed.

Guy of Gisborne, feared by all the peasants in the shire, enemy of Robin Hood, lieutenant to Sheriff Vaisey, had not told anyone _Robin Hood_ had fired an arrow? At the threat of hanging? A strange feeling crept up her spine-or her heart; she could not tell.

"Why?"

Guy shrugged, irked,

"As if I know. I was a boy; foolish, stupid. Ignorant. Anyway, Hood did not step up and say it was him, either, so I was certain I'd die. Then, my father came. And saved me…but that is of no consequence. A few weeks after his return…" A long pause, "He was cast out of the village as a leper."

_Leper? _

She raised the head she had been resting on his back. Leprosy was a horrendous disease. When a member of one family was proclaimed a leper, he had to be disowned and dead for them. Unless they wished to lose all they had, their money, their title, their position…their lands. Guy must have lost his Gisborne that way. And that was why he wanted it back so badly. Elizabeth felt the strange feeling from before grow stronger, but she still was not able to put her finger on it. She was too focused on the tale. After such an event, it was _no wonder _he was ready to do anything to restore the glory of his family name.

"My God."

"Don't worry." He sneered with indignity, facing about, "I obviously was not infected by it."

"No!", Elizabeth shook her head, impulsively and unexpectedly circling round him and sliding onto his lap, their lips millimeters away, "No, I did not think that, for God's sake. I was just…surprised. God..!"

The strange feeling-she was feeling sympathy. An overwhelming amount of it. Guy had been so quick to believe she had been disgusted or put away, so quick that it made _her_ feel pain. A strange type of pain, that made her believe she would love to take upon herself more of his pain.

It did not come just due to pity.

Thereupon, beholding blue eyes and all that was behind them, Elizabeth realized she had fallen in love with him.

It had either occurred during time, time throughout which she had been certain she had hated it, during their first meeting when he had caught her on the stairway, or during the time that had passed since their return from London.

But she was more than certain she would surely do anything in her power just to make him feel more pleasant for a moment. And this sudden realization made her feel as if she had drunk a whole gallon of wine. Feverishly, she kissed him, with a kiss that lasted for what seemed like forever. _A most perfect version of it. _

"Tell me more." She whispered when they pulled away, reposing her head on his upper arm. His gaze followed her, and his other hand travelled to her hair, the long fingers running through the unruly locks. Then, he smiled at her. Not a fake, not a smirk, not a simper, but a true, authentic smile.

He listened to her request.

"We proclaimed him a dead man." _So you did not lose the lands that way, _"Malcolm of Locksley kept chasing after my mother. _Seducing_her. She thought he was a man of honorable intentions, who would help us-so Isabella and I would have a father. She kept going away, into the forest; I thought it was to meet Locksley, and I followed her once. In reality…" He trailed off, his hand stopping its movements on her head momentarily, "In reality, she was going to the leper colony-meeting my father. I was enraged-she had forbidden us to see him, telling us to forget of his existence. And there she was, meeting him secretly. Later, I went into the colony myself. Where my father had told me how my mother needed a husband, and we a father. I said…terrible things to him."

Elizabeth placed her palm over his, pressing it firmly and, she hoped, reassuringly.

"Of course you did. I would have done much worse in your situation." Oh, she would have. If she had had to go through her father being publically shamed, her family reduced so-she would have become a raging murderer. She would have lost her mind, most likely. Though, in the end, she probably would have just acted like Guy, despite all her thoughts. She would have been able to control herself to some extent-or maybe not. One way or another, she would have been more than ready to kill, lie, steal, cheat just to beat the circumstances placed upon her by life.

One way or another, she would have said what she had, for his sake, even if it would have been a lie.

Guy's eyes were thankful, "I think it was because of what I said…that my father returned to the village."

_Oh, no. _A leper was banished from all contact with people that were not carrying leprosy themselves. If he entered a village and was found—

"It would have been all right. He would have talked to my mother, and he would have gone away, unnoticed-if _Locksley_ had not alerted everyone."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped; "Malcolm?"

"No." Guy closed his eyelids, snorting, "_Robin. _Hood."

Shock bolted through her. Hood? Hood had been the reason his father had been found out—

"They found him in Gisborne Manor."

Found out in their home. Those who sheltered a leper were sorted into the same group with the leper. _Banished as well. _Because of Hood. Elizabeth felt a fresh boost of hatred for the outlaw. Hood had done that. Hood. Hood.

And the people used to_ love_ Hood?

"Dear lord. Hood." And the people wondered why Guy was ready to be so cruel towards them? They sheltered Hood, who had been the reason to, most likely, his father's death; "All things considered, Guy…" She halted. He would not want to hear that he was too good towards Hood, as he had intended on saying; just as _she_ would not want to hear she was ever too good towards her enemies, "It is no wonder you despise Hood. I would despise him, oh, I would. I _do._ " Yes, she definitely loved him, "I-I'm glad I was in the ploy to have everyone hate him."

Quizzically, Guy looked at her, with a slight frown and disbelief. Only then did Elizabeth realize her voice had trembled with emotion. Rage. And she had just said that she was glad she had been raped. What had--?

"Because of me?"

All the wondering went away when he asked the question, and she saw the expectation on his face, and she realized he had, in all likelihood, never had this conversation with anyone, save perhaps his sister, a very long time ago.

"_Yes._" She voiced fiercely, honestly, draping her hands around his neck, "Hood was a bastard. He is a bastard; your father died because of him, didn't he?"

Guy watched her wordlessly, blankly, before swaying his head no.

"No. My father died in a fire. Malcolm of Locksley was about to enter our house at Robin's...whining. I didn't want to let him in; I could not, for if he saw…So, I threatened him with a torch. And some of the wood caught fire, Locksley told me to leave with Isabella, I did." His lips were but a line on his face, "He went upstairs. None of them; my father, my mother, Locksley-none of them left that house again."

He averted his eyes, and Elizabeth saw the blame he inflicted upon himself. Oh, but he was most certainly not to blame! It had been Hood's fault, all of it. Malcolm Locksley's, too-what right had he had, bursting into their house? And why hadn't he turned the fire off? Wishing that the man was here so she could give him a piece of her mind, Elizabeth jumped up, folding her arms over her bare chest.

"Guy, don't you even think that it was your fault! Hood and his father are to blame. Malcolm Locksley could have, instead of going up the stairs to do…whatever he had done, gone to fetch some water to put the fire out! And he should not have tried to forcefully enter, at all-you do not go around, demanding to enter people's houses, like…like…_like the Tenners_!" She managed to lure out a smirk on his side, "You had to take care of Isabella, _you_ could not have done anything. And Hood-do not even get me started on Hood!"

"I left for France with Isabella." Guy's smirk from before was gone in an instant, "I sold her when she was thirteen, to Squire Thornton, for gold. So I could return to England…and restore all we had lost."

"Naturally!" Elizabeth, astonishing even herself, dropped herself onto the floor next to his feet, placing her hands on his knee, "I would have sold my soul to the devil to get it back, had I been met with such means! Guy, you have nothing to blame yourself for. Don't be absurd!" She paused, looking around the room, as if in search for words, "Besides!" She looked back at him, "Now you have it. What you wanted. Locksley…"

"And Gisborne." Guy nodded absently, getting up and pacing over to the window, leaning against the pane, "But I want _more_. So everyone, the whole _world_, so all of them would pay for what they did to my father…and my family."

"Yes." She agreed, whole-heartedly, eyes on fire, "Yes. They all deserve to pay. You have every right to make them pay. If anyone dares say you don't, I'll tell them exactly what I think of that. Or do worse."

Now, Guy swirled, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and bemusement. What he was about to do or say, she never found out, because a rapid knock on the door interrupted them.

Since this was supposed to be Elizabeth's room, she raised her finger to her lips, wrapping the sheets around her and walking over to the door.

"Who is it?" Guy grabbed his clothes, moving over behind the curtains of the bed in order to get into them without being seen by whoever it was-the servants were somewhat loyal to Ines.

"Allan!" The voice told her that without the name necessary, and she began unlocking the door, "Lemme in!"

"Here!" She hissed, opening quickly, and turning the key in the lock as A' Dale slid in, "What do you want?"

Allan looked around, and gulped when he saw what was the sole garment of clothing on her. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth pointed towards the bed.

"Guy's getting dressed. What do you need?"

"Err…your…cover? It's slippin' of here at the…umm…front—"

Noticing what he was saying was true, Elizabeth pulled it up, with a 'woopsie' and a chuckle. Allan did not get to finish what else he was to say, because Guy appeared from behind the bed, still buttoning his jacket.

"Allan." He warned grimly, "Mind your eyes. Why are you here?"

Since it was obvious Allan wouldn't tear his eyes away from her until she was decent, Elizabeth grinned and went to fetch her dress. Allan watched her disappear, then turned abruptly to confront Guy.

"Giz, the guards, prisoners and the taxes never made it back to Nottingham. The guards are dead, the prisoners gone…and the guards have arrows in their necks." He placed significant emphasis on the last part.

Elizabeth heard nothing but silence as she tampered with the laces of her gown, only paying a quarter of her attention to what they were saying. That changed, however, when she heard Guy's growl;

"Hood."

Hood.

Indeed; all claimed arrows were Hood's sign. Guy had to know, since he had known Hood since the outlaw was but a spoiled brat-not that she believed him to have advanced much, now. Her hands doing the job of tying mechanically, Guy and Allan now had her full devotion.

"Go have my horse saddled." He would go after him, of course he would. Elizabeth hurried what she was doing, wishing to get out of her hiding place and greet him properly before he left, "And round up the men. We'll _find him._ You will be coming with us, showing us all your hiding places—"

"But—"

"YOU WILL!" Of course he would; Allan wouldn't think of going back to Hood, right? He was supposed to be smarter than that, "You have been working for me for more than a year. I gather you know where your loyalties lie. Go!"

The door was opened and closed. Elizabeth did not care for the negligee now. She stepped out where Guy could see her, and their gazes met.

"He's back." He said sourly.

Elizabeth smiled encouragingly, deviously, her head up.

"Yes. And you will make him pay."

The same look as before Allan had interrupted them appeared. Elizabeth waited to see where it would take him this time. But he just leaned over to grab his sword from a chair.

"I will." He simpered briefly, "Don't miss the _Nightwatchman_'s hanging. I'll have four of my personal guard escort you to Nottingham."

"Thank you. Guy—" He'd almost turned around completely, but stopped, regarding her with a raised eyebrow.

She exhaled resignedly, "_Try_ not to get yourself wounded." Mischief took over, "I'd hate for encounters such as this one to have to be postponed." Shouts were heard from the courtyard, diverting her attention for a millisecond. Grinning at him, she produced a mock curtsy, "Good luck to you, Sir Guy."

_Again he is looking at me as if I was some sort of…phenomenon! _She was about to ask what that look meant, but he grunted humorously, attaching his sword to his belt, "Enjoy the hanging, Lady Vaisey. I may just bring you back another body to dangle at the end of a noose."

"As long as it's not your own, I'll be glad for it."

As she listened to his distancing steps, Elizabeth told herself not to be concerned. She had a lot to occupy herself with if she wanted to, and by the time all of it was over, Guy would be back.

But she could not help the incessant worry; such _lame brained_, ninny_-ish_ worry.

_Oh, yes, I _DEFINITELY _love him._


	12. You Are The Monster

**NOTE: **_Just an explanation; a month passes between the first part of the chapter and what follows. Enjoy! :)_

**Chapter Twelve**

Allan A' Dale hated the darkness of the Nottingham streets on this particular night. Granted, it was useful, and were it not for that darkness, he would have been imprisoned for multiple times already. He also preferred remaining unseen in the dark than running out into the light for all to witness. However, on this particular night, he was feeling jumpy. And he feared of what the darkness of the streets could be hinding. _Who_ the darkness of the streets could be hiding.

Because those he was meeting were as sneaky as himself.

The Trip Inn was a place that carried along significance; where he had met Guy of Gisborne when he had still been an inside man in Robin Hood's camp. The fact that Robin had chosen to meet him now behind that very establishment was scratching at his mind incessantly, since that had also been where he had finally been caught and branded a traitor. Which was why he was on special guard.

Robin had not been the same since the rape incident; or such a conclusion Allan had drawn from the enclosed evidence. The people would not have lost the faith in him, if he had not given up on them. The death of Marian, combined to him being the one who was blamed for that death, and for the rape of a noblewoman, made him abandon the entire cause, and withdraw God knew where. Last Allan had seen him had been just after the incident, where he demanded to know who had killed Marian. Allan had sworn ignorance on the matter, but in reality he had known-well, guessed that it had not been Robin and the gang. But he swore the Sheriff and Gisborne had had nothing to do with it, either. Not that Robin had bought it.

The fact that the people had lost the faith in him-that they did not see him as their savior anymore-that was what had made him lose the desire for even revenge. After a certain period of time, of course, during which the rest of the gang had probably had to keep him tied up so he would not rush into the castle asking questions and doing something entire Nottingham could regret.

By what Allan knew, the gang was still trying to help the people. But they no longer robbed the Sheriff and mocked him openly. They would occasionally steal a shipment of food here and there, but that was nothing compared to what had been going on before. Enough to cause a tantrum from the Sheriff when he was in a bad mood, but not enough to have him start executing random people. Like he'd once tried with him. Allan could only be glad for that much.

He'd just turned the corner, arriving to the meeting place, when a dagger jumped out of nowhere-that was what he'd meant when he'd said he did not like the idea of others hiding in the darkness-halting before his throat.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He raised his hands, "I come in peace, whoever it is!"

"Oh, yeah?" The voice was familiar, and Allan closed his eyes, "Like you did when you came here to meet Gisborne-traitor."

Allan sighed, "You would not have called me here if you'd just wanted to kill me." He said resignedly. No matter what he said, Robin would never understand why had he betrayed him. Just as he would never value the fact he had never, ever divulged all the information to Gisborne-including that about Marian.

"You're right." The dagger was lowered, and before he could have gotten his bearings, Allan was dragged deeper into the alley, and into the darkness.

"Why did you call me, then?" Nervous, he was, all right. Because Robin was not alone. Shadows that belonged to former gang members were surrounding him. This made him wonder why had he come here, exactly. It was clearly the plain truth the gang was gathering again. They would probably go back into business, and Allan was the only one of the Sheriff's men who knew for certain. He was not sure whether he was going to share that information with his superiors. Nothing seemed certain to him ever since he had agreed to be the spy.

A minor gasp was heard, from the smalles of all the shadows. _Djaq. _Allan remembered her affectionately, and he was about to say something, though he had no idea what, to her. Robin prevented that.

"Because some of us believe you have a shred of decency within you. Though I lost all hope of that long ago." _Here it goes again, _"Especially after you let Jack Marson and his father hang when you knew full well they were innocent."

Allan ran his hand through his short hair, resisting the urge to groan.

"Look." He had done that for himself, and for Guy and Elizabeth. If the Nightwatchman had not been caught, they would have suffered. If Allan told Vaisey Marian had been the Nightwatchman, he would have suffered for not telling him sooner; and they would have suffered because Guy's report would have appeared fake, "I had lots of reasons to do that. I couldn't have told him it had been Marian, 'cause then he would've been mad at me for not tellin' him sooner, and…" He hesitated.

"And what?" Much's voice sprung up from the darkness, "We don't see anything just in your other reasons, just that you know, so you might as well spit out the last one!"

A fresh rush of anger coursed through Allan.

"What were you expecting, to have me remain loyal to your cause?" He bellowed, then remembered to lower his voice as it echoed through the empty street, "Look, I told you I was sorry and I _wanted_ to return to the gang and stop workin' for Gisborne. Then you refused me. What was I supposed to do, run after you and beg you more? You said you'd kill me if you set your eyes on me again! Then the gang even…died off! Gisborne was my best chance; or was I supposed to earn my living as a beggar or a tavern trickster when I had something that paid better around?"

"You always have another choice." Robin said. Allan began to question his own, stupid sense of some sort of loyalty to these people. Maybe he _should_ just betray them all to the Sheriff and earn himself a promotion.

"Yeah, and this was my best one. Now, what do you want? I don't have all the time in the world."

"Jack Marson." The answer came as quick as one of Robin's arrows, preventing Much from launching into a litany of curses or whatever he had intended on, "We were there when he was executed." _And didn't save him-strange, _"We were there when the Sheriff said he had finally been caught thanks to his efforts and all that. Now, what we want to know is how was he actually caught-why was _he _caught-and why were they looking for the Nightwatchman at all, when he hadn't appeared here since…"

Allan knew the reason to the pause, and for some reason, he found himself alleviating it.

"Yeah, I know. It's a…long story." _One I won't be tellin' you, _"There were sightings of him in Nottingham, and some townspeople were smart enough to go and report him, hopin' for a reward…"

"Oh, I don' believe this—"

"Shut up, Much!" Robin did something Allan thanked him for, "There were no sightings of him. I have been back longer than you think, and I'd have known. We'd have known. Will Scarlett. _Why_ did you let him hang?"

Pain gnawed at him, but Allan swallowed it down, "Lady Vaisey said he'd been among the ones…" _You knew he had not._

"You knew he hadn't!" Much hissed, "You should have tried—"

"I couldn't have!" Allan said, louder than he had intended to, and with more emotion, "I couldn't have, alright? I'd have lost my own head."

"Coward."

No 'shut up' came from Robin at this comment. All were silent, and then the leader of the gang spoke again.

"We know, also, that for some days, _you _were sent to collect the taxes in Gisborne's stead. Why?"

"I had to prove my worth to the Sheriff." The lie came swiftly.

"How grand! I'm certain you did-"

"MUCH!" A deep voice Allan did not reognize hissed. _Someone new?_ Much shut up, without having to hear the rest.

"All right." There was something different in Robin's voice-something dark. Not as dark as what had been there just after Marian's murder. But enough to have Allan on edge, "Fine. We know Vaisey's wife was banished from London. For attacking Prince John when he tried to take liberties with her. What did that do to Vaisey's relations with Prince John?"

_Why the hell should I tell you? _

"Nothing." Another lie, "John just told 'im he should keep her in line. I don't see why that matters to you…"

He did not know whether they had believed him or not, and quite frankly, this entire business was becoming more and more suspicious to him, "Look, why did you really call me here? To ask me about things you mostly already know?"

What sounded like a soft, muffled cry came from the direction of Djaq. Frowning, Allan looked towards her, and unconsciouly made a step forward. A burly, extended arm stopped him, bumping into his chest.

"Traitors and liars, we do not like." John had sounded for the first time; he had probably been resisting the urge to strangle him on the spot up until now. Hesitantly, Allan moved backwards.

"Why am I here?" He repeated, feeling his heartbeat increase further. Robin had changed; maybe they did intend to get rid of him-

"Like I said. Because some of us believed that you had a shred of decency within you." Allan still failed to understand, just as he did not understand why had he suddenly switched to past tense, but Robin went on before he could ask anything else, "We know more than you think, you see. You lied to us about the sightings of the Nightwatchman—"

"Hey, that's what I was told!" Allan protested, not knowing why was he trying to justify himself to them at all.

Robin took no heed of it, anyway.

"You," He went on with more ferocity, "Lied to us about Vaisey and John. We know that he messed her up for good after London, and that he wasn't pleased at all with how John reacted towards him after her being banished."

_Goddamn it. I should've known better; everyone knew that, everyone heard Vaisey that day. _He regretted not being more careful. Though he had no reason for that. He did not intend on working with the outlaws again. The greatest concern he should have had was for them not to kill him.

"You let Will Scarlett die. You led Gisborne to our old camp. You led him to our old hiding places. You, Allan A' Dale, have failed your last test."

"As I knew he would."

Ignoring Much, Robin Hood turned to his men, "We have work to do." His head twitched towards Allan, who was too dumbfounded to speak a word, "Better than dealing with the Sheriff's men."

He left, followed by John and the others closely. Only one figure; the smallest one; went slowly and without much certainity. Just as they were all about to disappear, forever, to Allan, it spun around, and moonlight shone on Djaq's hurt face._It was her. She'd brought them up to take me in again if I proved myself. If I'd _known_--_

"It is never too late…Allan A' Dale."

That sentence haunted him throughout the night.

* * *

Robin Hood's return had Nottingham in an uproar. It had all the guards on alert, the Sheriff livid, the servants fearful and it kept everyone as busy as they could have been. While Elizabeth despised Hood, for all the right reasons and for the fact he had robbed a shipment of expensive gifts that had been sent from her father as his latest endeavor, she was glad for one thing-Vaisey was too busy plotting new ways of the outlaw's demise and fuming over the fact Hood had returned despite the people not adoring him anymore. Too busy to pay attention to little things.

Like his wife sneaking into the quarters of his Master At Arms, with Allan A' Dale watching their backs. Or Elizabeth going riding about an hour after Guy's departure to patrol the villages for outlaws, and, unbeknownst to Vaisey, running into him and doing some more riding. They were more than just cautious; they were ever-vigilant, watching their every step for the last month. Meeting during day in the castle, so no one could spy from the shadows, meeting when the Sheriff would not notice both were conveniently absent at the same time.

Like now, when Vaisey lied asleep at his desk. Or, at least, Elizabeth thought he was still asleep, but it did not matter much, since he was unaware of their whereabouts. And since they were, at any rate, done already.

"I'll go visit Locksley tomorrow." She talked low, between the wall and Guy in a most favorable position, "If you come-to see your wife and son-a few days later, we should be safe."

Guy watched the sparkles that were her eyes, cursing the fact he already knew he would say yes. Of course they would not be safe-they would never be safe, but they were both, due to one motivation or another, ready to maintain it and have it remain that way. Guy had had suspicions before-as eager as he had been to see Elizabeth then, if for nothing but for purely carnal reasons. They had all sunk into forget, however, after their last meeting in Locksley Manor, just before Hood's first robbery after his disappearance.

"Very well. Expect me there and then." To rendezvous like they had last time. The time that had made him completely sure he wanted to retain her.

Guy had never spoken to anyone of his family. He had not ever had a simillar conversation as that one. Once or twice, he had divulged smaller details, and had drawn back at the reactions. _Or killed at them. _Elizabeth's reaction-her unique understanding-_encouragement-_it was something he had never encountered before in his life. Marian had made him feel better, but the moment she woud look at him accusingly, or when she would leave his side, he would feel all the worse, with her good against his evil. When she would be so good and he so bad. With Elizabeth, he had someone who made him feel better, truly knew what he was thinking and paid heed to that, and who was like him. _Her_ presence, and thinking of her when apart made him think he was not alone.

"Oh, I will. But, do hurry-Ines is my only company over there."

Guy snorted a chuckle, smirking at her; "That's not true-the horses are always there."

"I'd prefer exercising my riding skills on someone else, thank you very much, Sir Guy." She convulsed her head shortly, her lips twitching "At least I'll be there to help remove Roger from the influences of his mother."

"_Tha_t is a worthy cause." If the child grew to be like its mother, Guy was quite confident his lack of feelings would turn into derision. Veering closer to Elizabeth, he kissed her-a long, passionate kiss after which he produced a make-believe bow and, "My lady.", Leaving her, light-headed still, against the wall. His kisses always left her light-headed.

That night, she slept with Vaisey, after quite a long time. Those kisses did not have any effect-they were merely there when he felt she did not want them. There had once been a time when her husband had respected her-or so it had seemed to her. Now, it only happened on occasion, when she would display special cruelty or sadism. Or when she was especially sharp in her feigned arguments with Guy. Which, lately, she had begun to despise more and more, the arguments. Because of the very fact Vaisey enjoyed them so much.

Elizabeth had never quite stopped to think on what they were doing and why since that one time at Locksley. Once she had realized she loved Guy, she did not care for all the dangers in the world. That had been the answer to all of her 'why's. She had always known that was the way love impacted with her. She did, however, know she had to pay special attention not to have love cloud her judgement completely. Resisting all those urges to embrace him, to smile at him, to kiss him-love made all that harder. Specially when she felt he would have wanted it.

But they had no other plausible choice.

None of them were of the kind to settle for less. No matter how much they might have wanted it.

* * *

The one-month old Roger liked being in Elizabeth's hands. Ines liked this in the afternoon, when she fancied a nap ever since she had given birth. Elizabeth had rarely been the one to waste afternoons that way unless thoroughly exhausted, and Roger was also difficult to get to close his eyes, at all. So she saw it as no problem to take the child along during her riding trip. Not that Ines would have liked that bit much, but she was already asleep.

The last time she had felt jealousy for Ines had been, realistically looking at it, just after London. As soon as she had heard from Guy exactly what he thought of his wife, all of that had gone away. That he had not been the one doing the actual chosing had helped, too. So, there were no negative feelings she harbored for Roger, either. The only fault of the child was being Ines', and it was easily forgiven once Ines was far enough. Beisdes, Elizabeth remembered her promise to Guy-the one conerning the influences of the mother. Of course she did, when the baby had eyes like its father-in color, if in nothing else.

Ivana, Ines' former governess, and now the one in charge of Roger's well-being, had insisted on going with them. Elizabeth had agreed, waiting for the other woman to change into a proper riding outfit and have her horse saddled. Now, she somewhat regretted her decision, because she could have heard Ivana's mare come closer to the one carrying herself and Roger.

"Milady, if you pardoned me, I believe it to be highly unsafe to be venturing so with the infant. If he happened to catch a cold—"

"Oh, he won't!" Elizabeth shook her head impatiently, "With all that clothing on him, I think he would survive a snow. And they day _is_ unusually hot." It was. And Roger's hands were warm as he shifted happily on her lap, producing gurgling laughter as they approached a river. Not a river-a stream, very small.

"My lady, I must say that the Lady Gisborne would not have appreciated knowing that—"

"Lady Ines will know of all that happened once she is awake. Do not concern yourself with that." No, this was definitely the last time she took Ivana along. If Elizabeth was ever to have a child-not that, with Vaisey, she would have looked forward to it-she was going to be thankful that baby would be taken care of by Matilda Carnan. Matilda knew how to be strict, but she also knew not to worry about the most trivial of things.

As a matter of fact, Matilda was returing in a few days, from Croatia, where she had gone three mongths ago with the news of Elizabeth's status. _I'll have to be mindful-Matilda can smell lies. Just as she has eyes that manage to see everything. _It was good she had been away for as long, indeed, despite the fact Elizabeth did miss her to an extent. Not that Matilda would have ever been able to command Elizabeth-she had not had that power when she'd been just an unmarried girl. Now, Matilda held no jurisdiction over her whatsoever. Her discretion was also reliable. But she could see without Elizabeth wanting her to, and that was what the Lady did not like. For once Matilda saw, Elizabeth would have to deal with silent scolding, which was a specialty of the former governess. And capable to annoy the hell out of one it was directed towards.

One the one hand, Elizabeth _had _always liked defying those who had once been a figure of some dose of authority. Also, the fact that someone who she knew would be silent about it would find out about her and Guy as well made her feel rather excited. She had always liked talking a lot, and keeping secrets had never come naturally to her. Talking about it with Matilda, even if all she ever got from the other woman was an opinion completely different from her own, would be fun.

Roger laughed again. It was not full laughter, but it was strange enough for a child his age. Smiling widely, Elizabeth tickled him, and patting his head contently as he produced more of the sound, "That's the boy, Roger. I have never trusted people who did not laugh when tickled." _Your father included, _she thought amusedly.

"My lady—"

"Roger." Elizabeth ignored Ivana this time, raising her voice, her eyes lingering on the stream. It would be easy, yes. Almost like walking over. And it would scare Ivana out of her wits. Nearly laughing at the thought, she looked at Roger's curious eyes, "How would you like to have us jump over that stream, mhm?" She began directing her horse towards it.

Ivana exclaimed in horror, "No! My lady, I cannot let you!"

But she found her protests ignored, as Elizabeth dug her heels deeper into the mare's sides, having her trot faster. The trot became faster and faster, and with each new step, the pitching of Ivana's exclaiming grew, until it finally turned into screams. Elizabeth could have heard Merrick emit a disgruntled sound, and now she did laugh. They were nearing the stream, and the horse rose up in the air. Roger's chuckling became stronger, and Elizabeth grinned at him, hardly able to wait to see the expression on Ivana's face. Ines' too. And then, she would tell Guy of it, and he would smirk at her or give her a mock lecture. They had been to this stream together, and he knew the jump was not dangerous at all.

The horse landed, safely, and Elizabeth turned her head backwards to catch Ivana's expression-which was, unfortunately, hidden by a bush. Sighing, she turned back to Roger with satisfaction.

"Well, we certainly gave them a fright, now didn't we?"

Progressing towards a small grove, she decided there was no point in waiting for the rest of the escort. They would catch up soon enough. Merrick would leave Ivana behind with pleasure. The grove was the beginning of Sherwood forest. It looked nice enough, and she chose to slow down once they were in there. Perhaps they would encounter an interesting animal for Roger to observe. _No wild boars,_ _I hope, _She thought with a portion of the back of he mind, chortling out loud at her own jape. Wild boars, indeed.

"If we do encounter a wild boar, we will kill it, right, Roger?" She sounded serious as she looked down on the baby.

"And if you encounter an outlaw, my lady?"

Elizabeth's head snapped to her left, where she had expected to see Merrick. However, in the process of gyration, she already knew that was not the voice of her captain.

The man who stood before her was shorter than Merrick, he had no horse, had lighter hair and was carrying a bow. Merrick only ever used a sword.

Uneasiness crept into her, but she fought it away, looking at the man with her brow up. Whoever he was, she would not give him the pleasure of mocking her on her own-well, on Guy's-territory.

"The same would go for outlaws, then." She smiled, "I hope you are not one."

He did not reply, and she was becoming more and more certain of the fact that he was one. Well, she had a horse, he did not, and her escort had lagged behind only shortly. In a few moments, Merrick would charge in here with the guards, and Ivana-Ivana would make the most experienced of outlaws sick. It did not make any difference who this was.

"Your reputation preceeds you, my lady Vaisey." The outlaw-man-outlaw-ah, whatever he was-made a couple of steps forward, but stopped before his movement would alarm her, "I hear that you attacked Prince John himself."

_Prince John? _Elizabeth had to admit she liked the way this sounded, once she managed to stop that train of thoughts leading her to Vaisey's punishment and her own softness. The stranger, perhaps, did not know anything of that-she hoped he did not, even if he represented nothing in her life. Reputation was important.

"I do not see how that is any business of yours." She countered, noticing Roger had gone unusually silent for him, "Who exactly are you and what do you want?"

The stranger's eyes lingered on the child she was holding.

"It is dangerous to jump with an infant on the horse, no matter how small the stream may be."

Elizabeth frowned, her look turning into a glare, "You have been watching us?" She demanded.

He laughed, "Yes. Otherwise, ma'am, it would have been very difficult to know when exactly to…incapacitate?...your guards."

_An outlaw. _Robin Hood himself, perhaps.

_Robin Hood. _Of course! Realization burst within her-how could she have been so stupid? Who else could it have been? She cursed herself for choosing to go into the grove. _With Roger, of all people. _Guy of Gisborne's son must have sounded like a very appealing target to Robin of Locksley.

But she couldn't let him have him. She was the only one there, to stop it.

"Stand back." It came as a growl, cold and angry, as she maneuvered her horse backwards, "Do not come closer." If anything happened to Roger, it would be her fault, "I warn you, my husband will burn down Sherwood forest if anything happens to me." Lies, Vaisey would have welcomed her demise.

The stranger-Hood-laughed, steadily approaching her. Elizabeth, hoping he would not place an arrow in her back, turned the horse rapidly, ready to go into gallop. However, a huge man with a stick spawned in her way, having her horse raise high in the air.

Instinctively, she freed her hands in order to grab the reins better, trying to steady Roger with the upper part of her arms.

She failed.

The baby flew into the air.

Elizabeth heard herself scream as the hooves of her horse hit the floor again, and she slipped off, ungracefully falling on her bottom. Pain streamed through her elbow, but the shock acted as medicine. Her eyes had attempted to follow Roger, but the fall had had her looking the other way. Roger was nowhere to be seen.

"Roger!" She shouted, getting to her feet, barely noticing that there were three more outlaws surrounding her save for the huge one and Hood. Bewildered, she gazed around. If anything had happened to Roger…_Guy's son…_Guy would never forgive her. No; maybe he would. She would never forgive herself, "Where is he?!" She yelled at the outlaws, her voice more high pitched than that of Ivana or even Ines at the moment.

A hand landed on her shoulder, and she grabbed it, spinning around, to be brought face-to-face with none other than Hood-holding Roger and _smiling._

"You! _You_!" She seethed angrily, laying hold on the baby. He was, surprisingly, not crying-he had cried when Guy had held him, and he even sometimes cried in Ivana's arms, "Look at what you have done! If Roger had been harmed in any way, I swear I would have…dug out your eyes, personally!" He wasn't releasing Roger yet, so Elizabeth tugged at him harder.

"My lady." Hood seemed almost amused, "Let me hold the child; it's obviously safer here than with you."

This made her fume particularly.

"Safer? Are you not Robin Hood, the famed outlaw? You were the one responsible for the near death of this—"

"You were the one to drop him."

Elizabeth stared into Hood's face.

It was not a necessarily ugly face; as a matter of fact, he could have passed off as handsome. But there was such _arrogance_ on it. The eyes-blue-were looking at her with such mockery and such a holier-than-thou attitude that made her want to have a lightning strike him down immediately. As soon as he let go of Roger.

This was, she reminisced, the man she had once claimed she would kill. Now, face-to-face, she caught herself asking herself whether she would have truly done it. _Yes. _She remebered Guy telling her of Hood drawing the villagers to Gisborne Manor as a child. _Oh, yes, of course I would kill him. On the spot._

Which was why, when she felt Hood pulling further away, put her knee to a very common use, aiming at his groin.

Roger was let go of immediately, and she jumped away from the bent-over Hood with him, twirling in the direction of Locksley and running as fast as her feet could have carried her.

Calling for Merrick occurred to her, then she remembered he was incapacitated, as Hood had put it. Dead, or merely unconscious? Elizabeth doubted Hood would have killed Ivana, a mere woman, though it would not have been—

"OI!"

Now, she began to verily panic. They were closing in on her, and while she had managed to flee with the element of surprise on her side, they were the ones used to running through forests, not her. She could not let them catch her. But they would, in all probability, do exactly that.

_My dagger._

She only recalled that bit when someone grabbed her by the arm. Groaning, she tried to get away, but whoever it was possessed strength greater than her own. Plus, she was holding Roger. She could not have gotten to her dagger. _No, no and no. _The man who had caught her had been the big, burly one.

"Foul play, we do not like." He stated. Scowling, Elizabeth jerked away, to no avail. Roger was, by now, she noted suddenly, wailing at the top of his lungs.

"Release me! Or is it not foul play to capture a defenseless woman?" Abruptly, it was not below her to claim she was defneseless.

"I wouldn't call you defenseless." The voice belonged to a strong-looking, dark-haired and dark-skinned man, and it did feel nice hearing that. Sneering at him sarcastically, Elizabeth let her eyes land on Hood, who was limping over.

"My lady…" He panted, and she was pleased to see the pain in his eyes, "If you'd let us explain…we hzad no intention on capturing you. We merely wanted to…talk."

That was a surprise, "Talk?" They were at the edge of the forest. They would certainly be seen if anyone came, especially with her new, crimson outfit. Stalling for time was a good strategy, "You have a strange way of talking."

Hood smirked, and she wished to take back whatever had made him do that, "You were the one to begin with the violence, milady." Ceaseing to lean over, he removed his hands from his knees, wincing still but now standing straight. A short man with something weird on his reddish hair was switching between concerned looks for Robin and murderous ones for Elizabeth. _His boyfriend, perhaps._

"You were the one to harm my guards."

"You will find," Hood laughed, "That they are not dead. We haven't harmed the lady with them, either-we tied her up."

Roger seemed unable to calm down, and Elizabeth began rocking him impatiently with her free hand, "Gagged her, I hope. Will you have your men release me?"

"No." Robin shook his head, "I can't. You'd run away."

Elizabeth pursed her lips, craning a brow, "If I gave you my word of honor?"

The small man snorted, "You're the Sheriff's wife." He said, not meeting her eye, "Your word of honor means as little to me as 'is. In fact--"

"Of course." Elizabeth snapped, "You are outlaws, after all, and have no idea of how a lady should be treated."

"Hmph. A _lady—"_

"Shut up, Much!" Hood raised his voice at the man, who withdrew immediately, "My lady," He looked at her, and his expression melted into coldness, "You look surprisingly calm around men who had raped you."

_Jesus Fuckin'…_

At times like these, Elizabeth was glad she had been friends with a stable hand. Curses did come in handy, even if just in thought.

The fact that Hood had supposedly raped her with his gang had dallied at the back of her mind, but with all the other events, she had not paid it much attention. Now, when four pairs of accusing eyes stared at her, she realized what they must have wanted. A member of their gang, innocent for that crime, had hung for raping her. They must have been quite displeased with her.

"What exactly do you wish?" She repeated a question, jutting out her chin. They would most certainly not have her feeling remorse. For a gang of stinking outlaws.

Robin Hood stepped forward, now a few paces away from her, no more.

"We understand, Lady Elizabeth." His voice did not fit his expression, and he was not making a lot of sense, "We understand that the Sheriff might've coerced you into saying things you didn't want to say—"

"_Coerced _me?"

Haughtiness spoke first, and she could have hardly stopped herself at all the surprise, "You think my husband coerced me into admitting a man had raped me?"

"'Told you so." The annoying little one murmured. He was silenced by a glare from the dark-skinned one.

"My lady, do you even recognize any of our faces as the faces of the people who raped you? Honestly?"

Elizabeth looked at them. Of course not. The men who had raped her had been completely different. Their stench had not been as bad. All had been white men. And there certainly had not been a woman among them. She had known this before even giving them a second glance. Hood, however, did not know of the fact Vaisey had hired _her _gang. Nor was he supposed to know.

"I recognize all save for you." She looked Hood in the eye, working on steadying her voice completely, "You did not even show your face."

The burly one increased the pressure on her hand, nearly having her grimace; "Rapists, we are not, no matter what they might tell ya!"

"Well." Elizabeth did not know what else to say. Her breathing became faster. Hood went on, decreasing the distance between them further. Roger was still crying. Good. When would someone hear him, already?

"You can tell us. We know how cruel the Sheriff can be." _So do I. The difference is, you deserve the cruelty, _"We are willing to believe that you are a good person who was just faced with bad circumstances; your marriage. We can protect you."

"Protect me?" Elizabeth spat, "Where? In the forest, sleeping with animals and living on dirt?"

Hood must have taken it as a sign that she needed protection. Now, he was inches away from her, placing a hand on hers. The big one still was not releasing her, though.

"Lady Elizabeth." Pity? Was that pity on his face? "The forest may not be the only option you might have. There are convents. Good people; good nobles who would be willing to hide you." His voice was becoming gentle, "Hide you from the Sheriff, hide you from Gisborne, hide you from the world. Vaisey could never harm you again, Gisborne could never harm you again." His look became bleak, "Vaisey must have scared you with Gisborne, but we can protect you from him, too. We can get rid of him. Eventually. No monster cannot be destroyed. The two of them are no exception."

_Gisborne_ to harm her? Hide her from _Guy_? _Hood_ was offering to hide her from Guy? Elizabeth was torn between laughing, screaming and crying out loud. This outlaw was convinced that she feared her husband and Guy. He was convinced that they had coerced her to do whatever she might have done, they(the gang) were convinced that their cause was the only just one and that all who chose something else were pure evil. Monsters. Vaisey may have been one, but he did have some smart points. And Guy-Hood, of all people, saying such things of Guy made blood run hot in her veins.

Preserving the role of a woman raped by these very men became second or third on her brain's list.

For Robin Hood deserved a lesson; and he deserved his illusions broken.

"Hide me!" She huffed indigantly, "Hide me!" She wished to say Guy would move heaven and Earth to find her, but she did not believe that to be true-the fact actually made her feel a tad hurt, "_You _want to hide me from my husband and Sir Guy? Hasn't it ever crossed your mind that I might not want to be hidden from them?" Roger's saliva was wetting her shoulder, and she moved it gently, "You dare say such a thing, Robin Hood. Calling," _Guy, _she had wanted to say, "Calling my husband a monster. You say that you know how cruel he can be-has it ever crossed your mind that people like you might deserve some cruelty? Oh, but no, you must believe your cause to be so high and so mighty that anyone who goes against it is right away the foulest thing on Earth. Your beloved King _Richard_. And England. Your land and the King who has abandoned it. They disagree with you-they want King John. I want King John, too. Not because I like him, though._ They_ don't like him either, necessarily. They want him because he will bring them power, wealth, status-important things. Things good for them-and their families."

She raised her head. Oh, if she had only been able to tell them the truth-tell them, in the following lines, that she loved Guy of Gisborne and was proud of that. But they had to get an amended version of the lesson,

"You cannot imagine, Robin of Locksley, that there are people out there who value different things-things such as their family name, or themselves, more than they value a stupid King they had never even talked to properly. People who have more important things in life-and who have lost more important things in life. People I call _normal _people. That is why I am proud to be the wife of Sheriff Vaisey." That was the amended bit; though the title did bring her pride, "You, who I suppose would condone of…massacres and…_murder of those you love_ for no other cause, but just for an idiot named Richard Plantagenet-_you _are the monster."


	13. I Cannot Let You Tell

**NOTE: **_I'm out of things to put here in the intro. Review, of course. And enjoy! :)_

**Chapter Thirteen**

Silence was the reaction of the outlaws.

None of them said anything, none of them displayed any emotion, not even anger, not even disappointment-nothing. The only audible sound was Roger's crying, and the cracking of fallen branches underneath the burly one's feet as he shifted them. Even his hold on her hand had slightened, she noticed, but only when he had already snapped out of his trance and held her tighter than before.

Hood's features, sowly, became more and more twisted. His eyes were incredulous, his mouth frowning, his brow furrowing. His hand did not remove from her palm, and she could have felt it go cold. As for the other, she did not pay any attention to them. The only thing that caught her eye was the straight, emotionless face of the dark-skinned man.

Clapping was heard.

At first, it caused no reaction from anyone save for Elizabeth, and she thought she had imagined it.

Then, suddenly, she was released from the burly one's grasp, Hood was reaching for his bow and black forms were appearing all around. Men. _Guards. _They had arrived. Triumphant, and relieved, Elizabeth breathed out, drawing herself away from the outlaws as quick as she could. How the guards arrive so fast-she would think of later. Right now, she was very glad that they had.

"Excellent, excellent, _most_ excellent performance! Only I would have put it better, myself!" The voice came from behind her, and her husband grasped her Roger-free shoulder and pulled her towards him before any of the outlaws could have thought of it.

_Him?_ Confused, Elizabeth turned to face him. Smug, he looked, which was genuinely content to him. He only paid her that brief attention before going over towards Hood. How had _he_ gotten here as fast? Guy had to be nearby, then, but she could not have seen him.

"Well, well, well." Vaisey laughed a long laugh, "Hood. Or Locksley, whatever you want. That's one matter where I'll let you choose…" His finger raised to his temples, "A clue? No. Anyway, if you haven't noticed, you are trapped." He motioned at the guards surrounding them, "There are more, behind them, and another line behind those. These are archers, so you will die if you try anything. Besides, if you kill me, "This was very pleasing to him, "Nottingham goes down as well! Hah!" A shrug, "Also, you now know that you-are a _monster_."

"You have trained your wife well, Vaisey." Hood finally seemed to have regained the ability of speech, "How many beatings did it take? One? Two? A dozen?"

Vaisey removed his smile; "You will show respect, Hood. Ah, if not now, then in the dungeons. They _all_ do in the dungeons." He produced a satisfied cackle, "You see, we knew that you would not be able to resist an opportunity to attempt grab hold of my lady wife." _Lady _wife? Not crazy wife?, "So, we had guards at the ready-lots of guards. And here you are-it worked!" The smirk was wiped away again, "Oh, well. No need to tarry." And he turned his back on the outlaws, "Arrest them." His eyes laid on her again, and on Roger, "_Gisborne! _Your brat is drooling over my dear. Remove him."

Elizabeth still did not see Guy, and it vexed her to no end-then he appeared on the other side of what was now a circle formed by men in black. She looked at him only fleetingly, not willing to risk more with Vaisey's stare insitent on her. He made his way towards her, and she handed him Roger. Their hands touched in the process, and she spared a more intense look then, to meet with unreadability on the other side. He had gotten somehwat better at holding the baby, at least, but Roger would not stop bawling.

She wiped the wet fabric of her dress with her glove, but it was of no use. Not that she cared. The consternation was drifting away, and she was able to think more clearly. So, this had been a trap for Hood. How charming. She was more than content, being part of another plot against him. Though unconsciously-again. Good thing this had worked.

Her own plotting had been succesful, too. What if she had lost it and told Hood that she did love Guy and that she was proud of that? Vaisey would have heard it all, Hood would have knonw their secret-they would have both been dead, one way or another. Now-now, Vaisey looked as if he had found the respect for her he had lost again-or at least, a certain part of it.

"My lady." He had not spoken to her thusly for longer than she could have truly remembered, "I believe you have given him a proper lecture. He is the monster, not I." Vaisey mused, "That sounds very good. I could have it spread around. Of course!" He was about to take hold of her arm, but he noticed it was the one with drool, so he quickly switched to the other, patting it as they began walking, "My dear, you deserve a gift. A necklace, a horse, a new dress, a ring-name it! Actually, I was thinking…"

Elizabeth stopped listening to him somewhere at that point, focusing all her senses on a new sensation- a sharp pain in the lower part of her belly. _I must have eaten something. _She ignored it, returning her attention to the Sheriff.

"…if you apologized to Prince John, don't you agree?"

_No. _

"It might be wise." True. Having the favor of the King was important. Especially a King you wanted to bring onto the throne. Besides, arguing now obviously would not have brought her any profit. _Pretend away, _she told herself, facing another wave of pain. What was this?

"Naturally! You also might want to…" It was becoming worse, worse and worse, and as the sun entered her eyes strongly, a buzzing entered her ears and darkness began ciruclating at the end of her vision.

She could not allow herself to faint. She came to an abrupt halt, jerking Vaisey after her.

"My dear?" He inquired, annoyed to be interrupted mid-sentence.

"Just a moment." She explained, twisting her ankle-that had always helped her when feeling this way, though she had never felt _quite_ this way, "There is something in my shoe." Certainly, she was not about to admit to whatever she was feeling. It would go away momentarily. She could not admit to it; Guy was behind her, she did not want him to see her falter again, and Vaisey-Vaisey was even less allowed to see such a thing.

Elizabeth bent over, pretending to be actually looking at her shoes, and taking one off.

The world swayed dangerously, and the last thing she saw was the edge of her own skirt bright against the leaves covering the green grass.

* * *

The child was Guy's.

She knew that as soon as she had opened her eyes in Locksley, and was told that the pregnancy had been going on for little less than a month. Vaisey had not touched her at that time, and for the greater part of the month, save for the event some days ago. _'Good news, my dear.' _Vaisey had grinned at her, _'Not really, but as long as it doesn't get in the way, good for you, I suppose.' _

He had not suspected a thing. Once he was gone, she asked the physician that had been summoned if he had told the Sheriff of how long she had been with child. _'No, my lady, the Sheriff had not even asked.' _Her excuse for the question had been, '_He would not have taken kindly to me not being careful during the time or not seeing this myself.' _The physician nodded with understanding, probably aware of the Sheriff's harsh ways.

When the physician left, too, she was free of worries, and Guy entered the room.

"The Sheriff has returned to Nottingham." He said upon closing the door, "I have instructions to return as soon as I'm certain you are well-guarded."

"Good." She was sitting on the bed, as she had pulled herself up the moment she had woken, "Good. Guy…" She hesitated, "Come closer." Anyone could have been at the door, overhearing. Elizabeth had always been slightly paranoid about such things.

Guy came closer, sitting on the edge of her bed. His eyes did not meet hers; instead, he kept them focused on the window next to the bed. Elizabeth frowned softly, taking in a deep breath. She believed he already knew what she was about to say, and that he was not overly pleased with it.

"It's yours." Her voice was silent, but she spoke with a smile and raised brows, sounding casual. Perhaps Guy would see that there was not quite anything they could do about this matter, and not be as grim. Elizabeth _was_ content with the child being that of her lover, and not of her husband. She was not certain she would have been content at all had it been Vaisey's. She would only have to put up a good show if the newborn happened to resemble its true father. _My uncle hs blue eyes-I can pin that on him. As for the hair, my father and my mother.._

"I know." The response was flat, and he looked towards her, "What if the Sheriff knows, too? He does know how to count and he does know he hadn't touched you--"

"Don't worry." Elizabeth smirked proudly, "I made the physican believe that I would not like my husband to know of how long it had been going on because he would be," She clasped her hand against her chest in a dramatical gesture, "Because he would be oh-so-mad that I had not seen it earlier and had not been more careful so that he did not have to concern himself with my faintings…"

Guy looked at her quizzically, but with humor in his eyes. Glad at that, she grinned at him coyly, "Come on, Sir Guy. I doubt it to be such a terrible fate to become a father again. Unless, of course, Vaisey decides it is for the best to marry Roger and a female child I have…"

He snorted a chuckle, "The worst part of that is we'd have to allow it." The gloominess was slowly going away. She drew herself nearer, crossing her hands and leaning them onto his shoulder. Her head rested on her hands, and their lips were an inch away. Even if there had been any more serious problems, Elizabeth could have easily forgotten them in moments such as that one.

"Perhaps," The expression in her eyes was musing, and naughty, "Their children would be cursed by God-or maybe not, since the Archbishop would never know, and neither would the Pope. Still, I do think it would be for the best I had a boy."

Her eyes glinted after a pause and she shifted suddenly, "Guy, the _worst _idea just—"

Without warning, he lunged forward and kissed her. Caught off guard, she simpered briefly before returning it fully. By the time they pulled away, she was sitting on his lap and the twinkle in her gaze had become more mischievous than before. The same was reflected in his eyes-something she saw very rarely. _I think it is that 'phenomenon' look. I do see it often, but it amazes me all the same. Which reminds me…_

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

She should have remembered to ask that sooner, but he would somehow make her forget each time.

He craned an eyebrow, twirling her hair around his finger, "Looking at you like what?"

"Like…I am some sort of phenomenon. Peculiarity." She grinned, "I_ know_ that I am breathtakingly beautiful, but.—"

"You are."

She stopped, her mouth agape. Guy noticed that, and huffed sarcastically, "Not breathtakingly beautiful, for God's sake."

"_Oh_. Curse you, Guy of Gisborne." She stuck out her tongue at him, "What am I, then?"

Guy hesitated before continuing. Elizabeth wondered if he was going to compliment her in some manner; had it been an offense, it would have come out easily. Finally, he wheezed, looking at some spot above her.

"A phenomenon." He gazed back down at her, "What other woman would have said those things you did to Hood? What other woman would have, when I had gone to hunt for Hood, instead of asking me not to go, given an encouraging smirk? What other woman would have simply…_understood _all the things I've done and why I've done them, without judging them? What other woman would not have thought me a villain for all my crimes?"

Along the way, his tone took on seriousness, and she caught herself enchanted. It was a compliment, all right. Better than any she could have possibly imagined. Because she had thought of the very same thing-how she must have been the only to have done the things he had listed. And she had not expected him to ever say it out loud.

It was her turn to kiss him, though briefly.

"I am quite similar to you on that field. The difference is I have never lost anything. The only reason_ I_ have is my own desire for more."

The thruthfulness of this statement astonished her once she spoke it. Indeed, she had never had to rise from ashes. She had never been in ashes. But she had wanted-she still wanted-to prove herself. And succeed.

_And I did. I have succeeded._

Suddenly, she was _very_ happy.

Which was what prompted her to, senselessly, inhale all the air in the room and look straight into Guy's wonderful, blue eyes.

"I love you, Guy, you know that?"

He stared at her, surprise etched over his handsome features. She found herself to be looking at the depicture of how she felt; just as blown away by the fact she had heard this roll off her tongue. After God knew how long spent in silence-during which Elizabeth tried to brace herself for him laughing at her, saying he could never love her, even abandoning her on the spot-he finally tore his orbs away from hers.

_He could never love me._

"You are the closest thing I have to a friend."

Of course he could never love her. Elizabeth fought fiercely not to have the pang of disappointment become visible on her face. Disappointment, and just that, because there was no hurt. Certainly, she was not hurt because he told her he did not love her. He did not have to love her! He was with her, that was what mattered. He was not using her-they were both enjoying the way things were. Had he not cared at all, he would have merely told her so and left her to rot. But he was_ with_ her. With her-not with _Marian._

She did not quite know what had prompted her to think of Marian, but once she did, the salve of emotions could not have been stopped. Marian-Guy had loved Marian. He had looked at Elizabeth with anger when he had held her partially responsible for her death. Maybe he still blamed her, underneath all the smiles he saved for Elizabeth (and Elizabeth only), or underneath the cold exterior they presented the public with. Maybe he still loved Marian.

He certainly did.

Elizabeth was, at that moment, extremely content that Marian was dead. If Marian had been there, Guy probably would not have given Elizabeth a portion of his time. Though he had kissed her-no, she had kissed him underneath that willow tree when Marian had still lived. Still..

That woman had left him by the altar to run to Hood. She could have had Guy, but she had opted for Hood, instead. Guy had loved her, and he had certainly told _her_ that, not any sentences about friendship or closets things to friends. Yet Marian had scorned him and refused him. _If he still loves her…_

None of these things were ever to leave her mouth. She would have sooner burned in all the fires of hell than let him know he had injured her. Which was why she refused to mention Marian or ask about her, no matter how much time it would have saved and how easier it would have made the entire matter; simpler. _If he does not love me, I shall not pine after him like a pathetic, little creature. _

Guy admired her for her strength. A strong woman would certainly not have given up a relationship that pleased her because she had not heard three stupid words-and if she started an argument over _Marian, _perhaps that would have occurred. A strong woman would have kept what she wanted. Elizabeth was going to do just that.

"Of course I am. I am the only one who can tolerate you, Sir Guy." She grinned a crafty grin, "Appreciate that."

She would stand by his side. Show him how better than Marian she was. Marian had been using him and making a fool out of him; Elizabeth genuinely cared and appreciated him for what he was. _I wish he would see that. I will _make _him see that._

Perhaps, though, he already saw. And did not give a damn.

* * *

The knocks on her door woke her from a slumber she had barely managed to somehow enter. It took a quick look through the window to see not much time had passed-there was still daylight, and the sun was only beginning to set. With a sigh, she pushed away from the mattress, stretching her body. The pain had never returned-the physican had said she should even be safe riding, as long as she did not experience any further falls. That had been excellent news-Elizabeth would have lost her wits if she had been supposed to lose her favorite passtime.

The knocks were rapid, and they repeated. Making certain her nightgown was laced properly at the front, she moved over to the door, recalling quickly her conversation with Guy.

_Friend_. It was not bad, really. Guy did need a friend, like her, more than he needed someone to love and not be loved back, as the case had been with Lady Marian. Elizabeth was much better for him, she helped him more and was more support. Guy had saved her multiple times, he had aided her even more, and he did tell her she was unlike any woman he had ever known. Their relations may have had moments that left her baffled, such as that one, but other moments were brilliant. It would have been dumb of her to be dissatisfied merely because he _maybe-_most probably-loved a dead woman still. _Dead woman. _Thankfully.

She opened the door, and saw the physican standing before her.

She raised her brow. What was he doing here? Had he not gone back to wherever he lived? Elizabeth hoped he had not returned with bad news. She wanted to be healthy and able to enjoy various activites.

"Good evening, mister Barneby." She greeted, and at his only response being a polite nod and silence, she went on, "What brings you here again?"

He seemed to have been waiting for this; "My lady." He toyed with his fingers, his head bent over them, but his eyes staring intently at her underneath his bushy, blonde eyebrows, "If I may enter; for it is a very delicate, personal matter."

"Of course." Elizabeth stepped away from the door, nearly certain the news were bad at that point. She let the physican enter and closed the door, trying to read what he would tell her from his demeanour, unsuccesfully, "It is not terrible, is it?" She added jokingly.

"Well." The physician twirled around, aburptly. Now, Elizabeth saw panic and anxiety written all over his face. She was about to inquire about it, when he rushed towards her, grasping her wrist before she could have taken in another breath. Eyes wide, she frowned at him.

"Mister Barneby, what do you think—"

"There is no time, milady. No time." He cut her off hurriedly, "You must listen to me—"

"Release me,_ immediately_, or I shall call for the guards." The physican must have gone mad. What kind of a game was he playing? Perhaps he had gotten drunk in a tavern and returned here in stupor.

He shook his head and wheezed; his breath, while unpleasant, did not reek of alcohol, "No, no, milady!" Fear was in his eyes, which were a shade of green, "You have to listen to me. It is for your own good-your own life!"

She ceased resisting him, cocking her head; "Continue." She finally said, haltingly. She could have always called for guards-and she would, if he decided to take any liberties he was not supposed to or if he began acting illicitly. Curiosity was preventing her from having him dragged off now.

The physican released her slowly, taking in a deep breath and running his hands through his hair. When he next looked at her, he appeared despaired. She opened her mouth to rush him, but he held out a stopping hand, nodding his head violently and going on.

"My lady, I am risking a lot coming here." His voice was trembling, "But I could not let you die. It is against all I believe in. Milady…the Sheriff wished to know how long you were with child."

_Curses._

"Did you tell him?" She asked numbly. If he had, all was doomed. If he had, she was discovered; as for Guy-Guy would probably end up the same way as she did, or worse…

"No." Surprise sparkled in her eyes. He did not? Good. Why was he here, then?

Elizabeth scowled at him, folding her arms; "Are you here to extort money from me, mister Barneby?" There was no point in pretending it did not matter whether or not her husband knew; if she pretended, then this man would simply tell Vaisey. And he evidently knew her life was endangered already.

"No!" Barneby nearly screamed, looking as if someone had burned him with hot iron, "No, no, no, milady. You don't understand. I…I told the Sheriff it'd take time to determine. I…I am expected at the castle within an hour." He gave her a fleeting look, "I-I came here to warn you, milady."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed, "Warn me?" Coldness swept over her. They were discovered. She would have to do something. This man-he would have to be sent far, far away. He knew-he could not be near Vaisey. Before that, though, he would have to lie to Vaisey, which brought about another question of importance, "You mean that you will not tell the Sheriff of the truth?"

Buyring his face into his hands, Barneby dropped onto an armchair with a groan. Trembling, he was, leaning his elbows against his knees. Elizabeth regarded him with a mixture of irritation and questioning. He obviously did not want to go to the Sheriff. He would have already been there, and he would not have lied about it taking time to determine. He would not have come to speak to her.

"I must, my lady." It was a growl, "I cannot lie to the Sheriff. If he was to find out…"

So that was it. Cowardice. No, no, no-Elizabeth would find a solution. The man who had the power to ruin her was here, in front of her. She would contain his knowledge. She would not let him leave this room with the intention of informing Vaisey. She was lucky that he had come here. Though it still was not clear to her what his intentions were and what he was aiming at.

Craning an eyebrow, she brought her hands to her hips.

"What would you have me do, then? Why, exactly, are you here?"

He looked up, not lowering his hands, through the space between his spread fingers.

"I am here because having your death on my conscience would be against all I ever believed in. You, the child…" He hesitated, "And Sir Guy." At the thunderbolts in her glare, he quickly explained, "I was alone in the office…I…I saw the _execution writs_. He has them ready."

That sounded like Vaisey. He had the writs ready. All he was waiting on was confirmation-word from the physician, word that would either make him destroy them(put them away for a later date) or sign them. Elizabeth felt her breath shaky as she inhaled. _If Guy was here…_No. She was capable of handling this matter herself. She made a step forward, nearing Barneby.

"Lie to him, then. Tell him I am in an earlier…." She shook her head, searching for plausible words, "An earlier, very delicate stage of pregnancy. I slept with my husband four days ago. Tell him that the earliest stage of pregnancy is the most delicate one. He will not see through it, he is hardly an expert-he holds women in the same regard as lepers."

If they _were_ discovered, it would be because of her and her pregnancy. That thought weighed heavily as she waited for an answer.

Barneby did not move; nothing but his lips, "Milady, I cannot." A whimper, not a voice, "I cannot let you die, but I cannot lie to the Sheriff. If somehow, anyhow, he was to find out…" He literally whimpered at the unspoken thought, then removing the hands from his face, sighing and trying to straighten, "Milady, you must run."

A puny idea of sounding determined, he had. Elizabeth, though, was too appalled at what he was suggesting to pay that much heed.

Run? He was suggesting that she ran, together with Guy. That, after all they had invested into reaching these positions in life, they were just to throw it away? Never. He was insane. Guy's expression when she told him-though she never would do that-that they had to run because of her pregnancy made her cringe. Desperation rose within her, and outrage displayed on her face. She could not allow this.

She was here-on the spot. With their only chance and the chance of their doom. She had to handle the situation. If she failed in that task, all was lost. She had to be the one to find a solution. And quickly.

Quickly; she threw herself onto her knees next to the chair. Barneby flicnhed, and began moving away from her, but she placed a hand on his forearm, stopping him.

"Mister Barneby…" Ignoring the pride, she made her voice as soft and broken as she could. As for the does of anguish, that had not been an act, "We cannot run. I cannot run. We have nowhere to go, and the Sheriff…he would find us anywhere. Have you…" Her mind was working above all its capacities, "Have you never heard of the tale of Vaisey arranging for a man's death all the way in the Holy Lands, just because he had stolen ten crowns from him? Or that about the fiteen-year-old girl who had stolen a painting, and had been hunted down to middle Europe?" She was spewing lies, letting her imagination loose. It seemed to be working; the physician's face had gone even paler than it had been before he had entered. He began playing with his fingers wildly, and Elizabeth would have laughed had she not been the one on the floor, begging.

"I beg of you, Mister Barneby, do not tell the Sheriff the truth. We are all bound to die. Myself, Sir Guy…" She had a feeling he did not care much for Guy. This made him all the more annoying to her, now that she thought of it, "An innocent, innocent child. _I beg of you._"

Barneby was silent for what seemed like actual minutes, but Elizabeth knew it was seconds, "Please."She repeated, tasting her own chagrin at the hapelssness, "Please."

"Yes."

The man, finally, nodded his head feverishly, "Yes. Yes, I will…I will tell him lies. I will help you. I can't…I can't let you be killed because of me. I'm a physician, I want to save lives, not destroy them." The last line, he said with actual pridefulness, as he got to his feet.

Elizabeth got up as well, relief flodding her. Good. Excellent. She could have hardly waited to tell Guy of this. How she had masterfully, once again, assured for the silence of this man. Oh, she could have already heard him say that it had not been much of a challenge, turning such a weak-willed man—

_Weak-willed man._

This made her stop.

He looked her in the eye, the doctor, going off about how he had chosen this calling to aid people in need. In that eye, she saw the same fear and indecisiveness as she had before. Now, it was not in her favor. It never had been. Physican Barneby was going to chicken out by the time he reached Sheriff Vaisey.

This was the man on whose back rested the entire lives of herself, Guy and their unborn child.

_I haven't done enough. _

The realization hit her.

_I haven't done anything._

There was only one thing she could have done to make certain a word never left this man's mouth.

For the first few seconds, she tried denying it. _I cannot do that. _It was not something she had to do. If she just let him go to Vaisey, she would _not_ be acting like all those people whose actions she had despised; people who were afraid to go through with their plans just to save someone's life. An innocent's life. This was not a matter of that kind.

But what was?

Barneby was turning around, after bowing to her, heading towards the door. He would leave and go to Vaisey. Where he would, at all odds, tell the truth, after one of Vaisey's looks that everyone considered eerie; even she, who was used to them. He was opening the door-and her mind was filled with thoughts of Guy, and with all both of them had lost to be where they were.

"Mister Barneby!"

Elizabeth picked up the dagger from the nighttable, hiding it in her sleeve and walking over to the physician.

"I just wanted to thank you for what you are doing for me…for us." She was actually going to do this. She was going to do this. No-she could not. She embraced the physician, a feigned gesture of thanks, and caught herself pulling out of it with him still alive. _Think of Guy. Think of Guy. _

How was she going to do it, though? She was not among the strongets-he could easily survive if she just stuck the dagger into his back. She did not know how to aim for the heart. All she knew was-slit the throat.

_Slit the throat. Actually do it._

_Think of Guy._

_You are strong-you wanted to do this to Hood. You will do it to this man. He is innocent, but it is you and Guy or him. Only one, reasonable choice._

"I was wondering if you could check my ankle, Mister Barneby." He would have to lean over then, "I have been experiencing strange pain there. I know that I am asking too much after all you have done…"

Barneby smiled at her widely, and she did not know when she had last seen such genuine happiness on anyone save for baby Roger. She swallowed deeply, listening to him say; "Do not worry, milady. I told you, my desire is to help people in need. I am glad I chose to deceive the Sheriff for you-I knew I would choose that in the beginning, somehow. I have a baby, too-well, two of them. If anything had happened to them…"

In the process, he head leaned over, and nothing was easier than the shrill movement of moving her hand forward and digging the side of the dagger into his throat, having him dead within seconds. However, Elizabeth lingered, seemingly unable to stop his story. She did not want him to say these words. She wanted him to say how he was all alone in the world, how he cared for nobody and how he would be willing to do anything, sell his soul, for money. She wanted him to say he wished to blackmail her, after all, so then she could kill him.

Instead, he went on about Mary and Jonathan, his two one-year old twins.

"Does it hurt you here, milady?" He looked up, meeting her eyes again. When working, he appeared a lot stronger and there was fresh vigor to him.

"Yes." She heard herself say, "And a bit lower…"

Now was her chance. The only one-no, the man was naïve. She would have more than one. But if she did not do it now, she never would. Or she would do it later.

Her mind in a turmoil, none of her thoughts making sense, she forced herself to think of Guy again.

"I think it's all right, milady, maybe—"

Elizabeth lunged forward, using all her strength to push the dagger into Barneby's throat.

She never saw his eyes-nor did she want to. All she saw was blood-blood pouring all around. She heard gurgling, a sound that was, most likely, the end of his diagnosis to her. Such devotion to one's calling. Then, his body turned limp, and he fell down.

"_I could not let you tell anyone._"

Elizabeth let him fall. Quickly, she ran to the bed, taking the sheets and wrapping them around his head before the carpets were stained. Surprisingly calm once it was done, save for the trembling that appeared in her body, she sat on the very same bed, breathing a deep breath.

She did it. She killed him.

The father of two infant children. A man devoted to his calling. And it was so quick, so easy-in a few swift moves, she had managed it all. The deed itself was not what was difficult-it was persuading oneself to do it. Staring down at him, Elizabeth felt a mixture of horror(she would never admit to), disgust and pride.

She_ did it. _She killed him.

It was at that moment that Matilda Carnan leaned in through the half-open door, staring at the crime scene with an emotionless mask on her face.

**Well, here you go. Elizabeth's first murder. Not nearly as easy as she had expected it would come to her. Of course, she isn't admitting to half of the difficulties hehe ;) . I hope you liked this chapter, and I hope you'll like the ones that follow. :)**


	14. The Greater Of Two Loves

**Chapter Fourteen**

Elizabeth had ordered all the servants into the basement, telling them to count the bottles of the wine, barrels of food, and to exterminate any rats they found. She used the fact she had just seen some of the rodents down there recently as an excuse. They obeyed; she was the Sheriff's wife, and it was not an unusual task; and disappered in the basement in a matter of seconds.

Then, Matilda helped her carry out the body. It was already dark, so that was not a problem. They placed him onto his horse, led the horse through the forest path, then scaring it into gallop. Outlaws could have been blamed for everything, especially with them taking away all the valuables the physican had had. Not necessarily Robin Hood, for he was not the only one. Matilda made sure they were not followed. The servants were done with their chores five mintues after their return, giving them enough time to check for traces of blood-there were none.

Only when all was taken care of, only then did Matilda follow her former charge up the stairs, into the bedroom and, behind closed doors, inquired what all of it had been about.

Matilda's loyalty was one of the things Elizabeth liked immensely about the older woman. Practicality and loyalty. She had known that, no matter why Elizabeth had killed the man, the body had to be hidden and the blame shifted, first and foremost. Now, they could have bothered with the rest of it. Now, a lecture would be delivered if necessary, but loyalty-loyalty would never be questioned. Commands would be obeyed.

"He knew things that had to be kept secret."

Elizabeth replied curtly, not wishing to divulge it all at once, "At all costs."

"Yes, my lady. May I also inquire about the nature of those things?" No change took place on Matilda's face or in her tone. Looking at her, Elizabeth remembered she had been visiting her family only recently. What would her family have thought of this act of hers? Her brother would have been proud of it, though he would have certainly given her a lecture on how much smarter she could have been, though she did not fathom how. Her father would have been remotely proud, but he would never condone it, and her mother-she would have been positive to disown her.

Still, Elizabeth would have liked nothing better than being able to tell all of them. Because_ she_ _was_ proud of how elegantly she had done it all. How she had saved herself and all she had worked for. And Guy. Despite the initial difficulty, or the morality of the matter, or whatever it had been that had made it difficult. Perhaps she merely had not wished to be caught?

With half a mind to ask after her family, she stopped herself. _I'll do that later. Now, I have to focus._

Rubbing her hands against each other; it was rather cold outside; she sighed and turned away, towards the bed and away from Matilda. She wondered where it was best to begin. Matilda was trustworthy, and Elizabeth was eager to discuss all that had occurred in her life with someone. It all was, indirectly or directly, the reason to this. She nearly smirked at the thought of what Matilda would say to her relationship with Guy, as she had before, when out riding. _Think of the wolf. _This time, it was good the wolf had come. Of course-wolves were enemies in farytales only.

"Matilda…" She swirled back, a ready-for-battle expression on her face, "Do you want all of it, from the beginning?" She spoke determinedly and briskly.

"I would like that, my lady." Matilda's position was the same; straight, stiff, unreadable. Elizabeth, this time, did smirk. Had she not been the one to, after all, tell Guy one had to learn to laugh at things unless one wanted to lose their mind? Crossing over to the armchair-where Barneby had sat hours ago-she dropped down, crossing her legs.

"Very well. But, as I've already told you, Matilda-not a word to anyone."

"Of course, my lady." Yes, Matilda knew how to pay attention to the fact that she was no longer Elizabeth's chaperone. Back in the day, she would not have been as scarce with her words. This was positive. _Devoted subordinates are refreshing._

Sighing, Elizabeth leaned onto her elbow, going on to speak. The armchair even _smelled _like Barneby. She'd have to have it cleaned-or, rather, Ines would. _I'll spill something over it so she has an excuse. _

_On with the story._

"Matilda, a few weeks after you left, I was sent to London." She was in a dilemma whether or not to mention the fact Hood's gang had never raped her, but chose to omit it for the time being, "Myself, Ines and Sir Guy." It was too early for the older lady to take the hint, "Immediately, Prince John took a ….liking to me. He told his old mistress to relinquish her seat to me, and toasted to me for the entire evening. When he withdrew to bed, he called for me. I went to him." The brief pause was just enough to allow Matilda to comment.

"It was the only plausible choice, save for excusing yourself with being ill." _And you know I would not have done that; especially when going could have brought me profit._

"Well. It ended up-bad. He attempted to force himself upon me, and I…I defended myself. I hit him, twice. And I was arrested."

"My lady." Matilda was outraged, certainly, but she hid it well, "Refusing the Prince thusly, especially after enjoying his attention for the evening, could have brought terrible reprecussions. It is fortunate, indeed, that you have not been punished."

"Oh, I have!" Elizabeth chuckled, waving her hand. Yes, it was so pleasant to dismiss it all now with a wave, "I was about to be executed." No reaction, she thought as she watched Matilda for any emotion, "But Guy of Gisborne persuaded _His Highness_ to do no more than banish me from London and proclaim I attacked him because of traumatic experiences from the past."

Matilda nodded-she knew what she was referring to. By now, she had most certainly begun to form some theories. Knowing her, the theories were probably close to correct.

"I believe your husband did not react kindly to that entire incident, my lady."

As she had thought.

"Precisely. He…" Elizabeth shifted. No, she would not tell her of the physical part of the punishment, "He had me and Sir Guy dress up as peasants, to play a married couple in Pitt Street. We had to catch the Nightwatchman. You have heard of him, haven't you?"

"Yes, my lady." Matilda had remembered everything she had found out in Nottingham, naturally, "I have. I take it you were succesful?" Her eyes bore into Elizabeth's significantly, "You-and Sir Guy?"

The candles were creating shadows on the wall, and for an instant Elizabeth thought another person was in the room. _Barneby. _Why was that her first thought? Slapping herself inwardly, she turned to see it had been nothing but the shadow of a pitcher.

"Yes!" She looked back at Matilda, as optimistically as she could, "We were succesful. The Nightwatchman was hung." _Not that he was the real Nightwatchman, _"So, we were, sort of, back into my husband's good graces."

"I understand, my lady." Matilda came closer, sitting slowly onto the chair next to Elizabeth's. Her following words where a whisper-Matilda was always vigilant. Just as Elizabeth and Guy had to be. She had been somehwat of a good mentor, "Have you and Sir Guy been having your affair since then, or had it begun earlier?"

Having it spoken so correctly was nearly amusing. Only now did it occur to Elizabeth that, before, Matilda would not have hesitated to inform Lord Horvat of anything his daughter might have done. It was true that she was a married woman now, and that her father no longer controlled her fate. It was true that Matilda would be remaining in England. Still, she could have sent letters. _Letters. Written evidence. Surely Matilda would not be as stupid._

"If you decided to apprise my father, Matilda-do not do it in any other way but in person. He would be the first person to be dissatisfied if someone else got hold of the information." Elizabeth would not have cared if her father was the only to know-at least, not negatively cared. Though it would have been wiser to keep the information from him, now that she gave it further consideration—

"Of course, my lady. I am not a fool."

"I would prefer it if you kept silent. I command you to stay silent. If you refuse to obey that-at least refuse in a way that is not harmful."

"Of course."

Matilda was still waiting for an answer. Clearly, it was unlike her to forget about the question. Specially since she had been of the few to know of-and probably keep secret- the kiss more than a year ago. Straightening, her hands on the sides of the armchair, inhaling deeply, Elizabeth-smiled.

"Since then. We have hidden it well."

"Not well enough for the physician not to find out, my lady."

Elizabeth scowled briefly, debating between telling Matilda off or ignoring this criticism. Finally, she blended the two.

"I took care of the physician, obviously. And it could not have been avoided. I…" She scoffed involontarily, "_Fainted_ in the forest. He examined me, and determined I was with child-for a month. Vaisey had only touched me more than six weeks ago…and some four days ago." Her knuckles became whiter from the pressure implied on the chair handles, "He already had execution writs for me and Sir Guy, ready. All he was waiting for was Barneby's word." Which was, now, never to be delivered.

He would request for another opinion, though. Elizabeth considered whether she had done the best again. Perhaps she should have risked, let him go to Vaisey and kill him afterwards-no. It would have been to great a risk. Now, she had to worry about the second opinion. She had to find someone trustworthy, who would also be good enough for Vaisey. And this time, she could not kill him, for it would be too suspicious.

Him-her eyes trailed over Matilda determinedly-or her.

"He shall send for—"

"Matilda,_ you _will be the second opinion."

Matilda blinked, closing her mouth and pondering for a few seconds. Then, she slowly nodded.

"My lady, it will be hard to bring your husband to trust my opinion. He knows where my loyalties lie."

Elizabeth folded her arms, pursing her lips. True. There had to be something that would convince Vaisey. Ah! Very well. _Very well_.

"If you were to ask for employ…" Tricky, but it could work. She bit on her lower lip, frowning, "If you were to tell him you were dissatisfied with Lord Horvat. Ask if he would have any uses of you-tell him you could be an able physician, make certain he hears that. Go…go the day after tomorrow. Make it look casual, but make certain he hears that."

"I know, my lady." This was Matilda's territory, what she was raised to do, "I shall make certain it does not appear as if I know too much or as if I am too convenient for it to be unsuspicious. I shall also express suspicions—"

"—Of me being unfaithful, of course. You, the former governess, frown at the impropriety, you may even offer to spy at me further…!" Grinning, Elizabeth jumped to her feet, clasping her hands, "You, Matilda, are a genius. Then again, it was my idea-therefore, so am I…"

"My lady." Matilda got up, too, but her voice was reproachful instead of feigning cheerfulness, "You must know that you are playing a dangerous game. Sheriff Vaisey is not the sort of man to be trifled with. I shall aid you to the best of my abilities, but you are putting everything at stake. My lady."

A shadow of gloominess washed over Elizabeth. Then again, she was also unmistakably content that she had finally spoken about the events in her life, and that she had gained an ally. So, she rolled her eyes unceremoniously.

"Don't you think I know that?" The voice that left her throat was sharp and irritated; more than she had thought it would have been, "I killed a man to save our secret. I killed a man to keep 'everything'."

"You are ready to kill, my lady, but you are not ready to leave Sir Guy."

That was it. Temper flaring up, Elizabeth made a step closer to the unflinching Matilda, looking at her with fury, "You are out of line, Matilda. Advice is fine, but you have no authority to question what I do. You will help me-why should not be any of your concern. I have already explained more than enough."

Had they been a governess and a charge, Matilda would have escalated this conversation. She would have asked whether Elizabeth was in love with Sir Guy, or if she was committing all that she was out of pure lust. She would have demanded they put a stop to this.

They were not a governess and a charge, though. They were a lady and a woman who had been serving that lady's father; and who was, now, though Elizabeth did not know it yet, serving only her. Matilda also knew that Lady Elizabeth was right when she said Lord Horvat would have been mad if this secret came out or if his daughter's reputation was stained any further. Any further-she was already, apparently, banished from London as a madwoman. She had to do whathever she could to prevent other incidents. No matter who she worked for, she was loyal to the family to some extent. She had to be.

And by the look in Elizabeth's eyes, the determination she was showing, the rage she had just displayed, the fact she had committed murder-it was more than clear to the experienced Matilda Elizabeth was in love; with Gisborne just as with power, or her illusion of power. Currently, it was impossible to have her stop seeing Sir Guy. The greater of her two loves? No. Otherwise, they would have abandoned this place long ago. She knew Elizabeth.

So, the best Matilda could have done was to help them hide it. Make certain Lady Elizabeth's head remained, unsevered, on her shoulders.

As for the evils Lady Vaisey was doing-_be they on her soul. _Matilda would honorably and respectfully serve her. God, if there was one, would know and understand her actions. She had been placed here in life, she would fulfill what she was meant to fulfill. No one could have asked of her to lose it all, either.

"Yes, my lady."

* * *

The nights were the worst.

Guy knew this. He had killed plenty of men, but the first were always the worst. Once you did your second and your third, you got used to it. The night after the first murder, though, was the toughest part of the entire act. More difficult than deciding to do it-well, for Guy, it had been very easy to decide to do it, with Vaisey standing above him. He gathered, for Elizabeth, it had been different.

He still did not know why he was really standing at the door of the guestroom, under the excuse of an outlaw sighting at Locksley delivered by a servant sent from Ines. In truth, Matilda Carnan had brought him the news of the Sheriff's plan to execute them if the physician-now dead, killed by Elizabeth in the right time-brought news that her pregnancy had been going on for longer than acceptable.

Guy, after initial shock, and disbelief, had gone to check. Vaisey's office was empty, but it was easy to find his way through the papers and see the execution writs. This, in spite all, sent chills down his spine-had they not been careful enough? Or had the pregnancy been the only thing that had made the Sheriff suspect? The latter, most likely. He earnestly hoped.

Matilda had relayed to him their plan briefly, and he agreed on it. He gathered the woman was trustworthy; Elizabeth had often mentioned that particular trait of hers. Then again, Elizabeth was not the best judge of character there was. Still, Matilda was obviously aiding them, and she had no reason not to, if she worked for the Horvat family. So, he believed her, and for some reason, went to Locksley; not without suspicions.

Now, the suspicions were beginning to melt away.

Elizabeth was twisting and turning on the bed, not in peaceful sleep at all. Nightmares, Guy concluded, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. Most likely the face of the man she had killed. _What am I doing here? _He was few inches from the bed, cocking his head and looking at her with a slight frown. She was asleep. What had made him come here? _I wanted to see whether she had cleaned up the crime scene. _Why was he looking at her and not the scene, then?

Just at that moment, she jumped up, sitting straight, with a gasp that made him bolt a tad. Her eyes, bewildered, darted towards him, and she drew towards the nighttable at the speed of light, reaching for her dagger.

"Elizabeth!" He hissed as silently as he could have for it to reach her ears, grasping her hand. Instinctively, she tried hitting him with the other, but he grabbed it, too, forcing her to look into his eyes. Her breathing was shallow and fast, "It's me." When she remained silent still, he sat down next to her, focused on her, "It's only me." He repeated more softly.

Realization and recogniton blended in her eyes, and she attempted to collect herself, "Guy." He was not about to believe her old demeanour was back; especially since her acting was not at its best at the moment, "What are you doing here?" All said in a breath.

She seemed dishevelled. In London, she had been shattered. But Elizabeth-Guy only now saw she would have loved hearing that from him-Elizabeth never appeared fragile. Not even when she trembled and cried.

"Matilda told me of everything. I came to see whether you cleaned the crime scene up."

"Ah." She was not pulling her hands away from him, and he was not letting them go. Thinking on why was beside the point. The dagger, however, was still in the left one, and his gaze trailed over towards it.

"Why did you try to stab me?" Guy knew the answer to this question already. The point was to have her say it. Not that it would be easy. She was stubborn about herself. He supposed he wanted to have her say it because she _was_, as he'd told her, the closest thing he had to a friend. And telling someone who understood made matters easier. She had made it easier for him. Now, it was time to return the favor.

He did remember very well she had told him she loved him. That had been one of the things that had, as much as he had tried pushing it out of his mind, persistently been persuading him not to come here.

They were not supposed to love each other; that just was not the kind of their relationship. They were friends, of a sort, who slept together. They talked to each other, they comprehended each other, but love had no place there. Love had been what he had felt for Marian, who had betrayed him and whose death had been arranged by Vaisey. Elizabeth was completely different from Marian.

Elizabeth did not disappoint him. Looking away, she wriggled her wrists free, dropping the dagger back onto the nighttable, "I did not know it was you. It could have been aynone-an outlaw—"

"Elizabeth."

Guy's tone was impatient and reproachful, his eyebrows raised skeptically. Her eyes back upon his, she feigned confusion.

"What? Was I supposed to guess you would be returning—"

"_Elizabeth_."

"_What?!_"

The outburst got no repsones from him, save for a sigh. Wild-eyed, she was in front of him, ready to deny anything she considered weak, even if he pointed out the proof to her, or brought it on a silver platter. Guy shook his head, closing his eyes. It would take a more direct approach.

One he was very eager to administer. Surprisingly.

"You killed someone, Elizabeth." Yes, it was surprising that he was as eager to help someone. Even though he was returning a favor.

"Yes." She jutted out her chin, "Physician Barneby. I saved both of us that way."

"You did." Guy acknowledged that, "You made certain he remained silent." He watched her knowingly, "But you dreamt of him, too. Right now."

Startled for a moment, Elizabeth stared at him in wonder before replying, "What on Earth are you talking about, Guy?" Accompanying it by a chuckle. Guy was amazed at her persistence. Of course, he'd expected it. It was what he…liked…about her.

As annoying as it could get.

Rolling his eyes shortly, shaking his head yet again, he looked pointedly at her.

"Drop the act, Elizabeth." She was looking at him with an expression of pure disbelief, even forcing the smallest smirk. It was of no use-Guy saw right through all those layers. And his own face took on a more solemn contortion.

He might have admired her strength and all her differences from other women. Currently, though, he knew full well the amount of effort it must have taken her to act this way. And he caught himself not wanting for her to need to go through all that when with him. He caught himself wanting her to be at ease with him.

And he caught his own hand moving towards her face, tracing her jawline.

She remained motionless, and he drew her closer, embracing her gently. At first somehwat resistant, she soon leaned in to his touch, her head against his shoulder. She was cold-very cold. Guy placed a kiss on her forehead, "I know how it feels." He whispered into her ear, "You dream of him. You see him everywhere. You are reminded of what you did by every little bit." He kissed her again, on the neck this time, "It goes away. The second night will not be nearly as bad." A grin escaped him, "And I will be here the third night, most likely, so it will be impossible to call it bad."

Elizabeth chortled silently, letting out a long sigh. Guy could have felt her relaxing in his arms. He enjoyed the feeling, the mere fact that she was feeling safe and protected around him-supposing she was.

"Thank you, Guy." She seemed to have given up from further denials, "Thank you for…coming here."

He just smiled, saying nothing. She was silent, as well, too long for it to be normal for her. When Guy leaned over to see her face, he saw she had fallen asleep. Only then did the fact that he had actually made someone feel good actually reach him, and he was quite frankly astounded. A part of him wanted to remain by her side for the rest of the night, but he kicked that part inwardly.

They would be seen, most certainly. So, he pulled the covers over her, kissing her again. She stirred, but did not open her eyes. Stray locks of her hair fell over her forehead, and Guy removed them, hoping her dreams were now pleasant.

On his way to the chambers he shared with Ines, he realized he _did_ love Elizabeth. In however a different way than he had loved Marian, he loved her.

Marian had always defied him, rejected him and refused him fiercely. Elizabeth was even fiercer, but in the opposite manner. That took time getting used to-having someone completely on his side. But it was fine. It made him feel content. Certain of what he was doing.

It _was_ love.

Guy's train of thoughts was broken abruptly when he opened the door and did not find his wife within her bedroom.

Roger's crib was empty as well.

* * *

"Thank you, Mister A' Dale…you have no idea how…thankful I am." Lady Ines was struggling with words, the exhaustion of the situation having her mix English with her mother tongue. Allan nodded at her, breathing heavily, motioning at the carriage he had supplied them with.

"Yeah. You should, really, get in there. And be careful-the baby could start cryin', and that won't be good…"

Ines smiled faintly, "Yes." But she did not climb up. Looking around nervously, Allan resisted the urge to sweep her off her feet and put her in, himself.

If he was caught, he was dead.

An hour ago, he had heard a knock on his door, and was surprised out of his mind when he saw Lady Gisborne, with her child. She was teary-eyed, begging for his help. Allan had let her into his room, checking whether someone had followed her first-no one seemed to have. Then, he'd turned, to see her with her hands clasped, shivering slightly.

'_Please, Mr. A' Dale. You must help me. You were friends with Robin. Djaq says she still believes you are good. _Please, _help me save Robin and the gang. I can't let them die, especially not Robin. Robin is…he…he is everything to me. And he is the father of my child.'_

The lines she had spoken were still echoing within his skull. Since then, a lot of things had occurred. He had killed two jailors, setting it up to have it appear as if an outlaw had grabbed them from the cell. He'd planted a lockpick to explain how they had gotten out of the chains. Somewhere in the process, he realized what he was doing was something he had wished he'd had the courage to do long ago. He'd needed some enticement. But he knew he would not regret.

He had killed another two guards, taking a carriage out. The torture had not let the gang quite able to move around on horses. The final part of the plan was for Little John to knock Allan out, so he could stay in the castle. John hadn't wanted to help him, but when Robin had insisted on it, he'd changed his mind.

"Mr. A' Dale."

Ines was going with them, and so was the baby.

Allan had judged this as stupid straight away. With Lady Gisborne with them, the gang would never be let alone-not until she was found. But there would be no going back-Ines claimed she'd left behind a note for Guy, in which she had explained everything. Maybe this woman was not quite the dunce Lady Elizabeth and Guy perceived her. She had made certain they did not leave her behind. Even though now, averting her eyes, she did look idiotic-especially since every second counted, "Do you…do you think Guy will put a lot of effort into finding me?"

"I don't know." He opted honestly, and hurriedly, "He doesn't love you." Maybe this had not been his place to say. Allan bit on his tongue, "I mean, that's what I think, judging by what I see." It was impossible she'd think Allan knew of Guy's affair with Elizabeth just because of this. Still, he had to be careful. This entire thing was getting to him.

"Well…I know he does not love me." She shook her head, not a hint of hurt on her face, "I don't love him, either. But he will come after me…right?"

A sound from the behind made Allan bolt. By the time he looked back, Ines was half-way into the carriage, and Little John was already out, his fists at the ready. Ines was, however, still waiting for her answer.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, but also feeling lots of other feelings, Allan sighed, "Look, yeah, he will come after you. Lots of reasons-pride, saving face…the baby!" He gesticulated wildly, "Now, go! Odds are he's already found your letter."

At this, Ines snorted, rocking her head, bringing her reddish hair into further disarray.

"He will not be coming yet." At the kinitting of his eyebrows, she actually forced a smile, looking at him with irony, "He is with Elizabeth."

That was the last thing Allan heard before a swift punch had him sinking into darkness.


	15. Who Loves Who, And Why?

**NOTE: **_A short chapter, with not much in it, since it shall be followed by a time gap. So, you'll mostly read about relations between characters, etc. Interesting stuff comes in Sixteen!:D_

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Who would have said, eh?" Sheriff Vaisey seemed oddly pleased, raising his goblet, "Lady Ines, being the traitor. It is always the girl, I never stopped believing that. But she put up quite an act." His eyes trailed to Guy, "A clue? No. _You_ were fooled by a woman, Gisborne. _Again_."

It had, indeed, appeared that way. More than it should have. But Guy could not have told Vaisey that Ines had never sent him the messenger concerning outlaws in Locksley. He could not have actually told Vaisey, _'No, milord, I did not go because I was called by my wife, I went to see_ your_ wife!_'. So, he had to just swallow down any justifications, and keep his mouth shut.

Elizabeth could not have said a thing in his defense, and she found it very difficult to withhold. She could have easily said that Ines had fooled all of them, not just Guy, but the memory of the execution writs Vaisey had prepared for them only a week ago was still very fresh. They could not have afforded the tiniest bit of doubt from him.

Remaining silent was uncharacteristic for her, though. So, she had to say something. Something that would have had it look as if she was siding with Vaisey.

This was the first meal they had all together since Ines' disappearance. Guy had spent the week searching for her, to no avail. The carriage they had stolen was found empty by the roadside. Not even A' Dale could have guessed where they had gone to. During the time of the search, Elizabeth had returned to Nottingham. With all the recent events, she and Guy had to be more cautious than usual. Which meant she had to spend most of her time underneath her husband's surveilance.

Matilda had informed her that she had been succesful in her task. Vaisey had 'employed' her to keep an eye on Elizabeth, promising that he would 'aid Matilda' and put a swift end to any improper actions of his wife, if they were to uncover any. Of course, Matilda knew what that meant more than well, but she pretended she did not. Elizabeth still silently praised Matilda's ingenious idea of turning to Vaisey for 'help' every time she remembered it. Now, his spy was their spy. Not that they were certain the Sheriff did not have more such individuals.

Another thing Matilda had persuaded them to change was not to ever meet inside the castle. That was something they could have done before. As of late, indeed, it had become too dangerous a tryst. They had to wait for the suspicions to calm before attempting it again. Since Elizabeth also needed to spend most of her time in the castle, it was not a pleasing arrangement. But they needed to be patient.

Disposing of the child had been judged as too suspicious by all. Elizabeth and Guy had seriously considered it, until Matilda had brought them the information of Vaisey believing that happening to be a proof of 'foul play'. Allan had confirmed it. So, they could have only prayed the baby did not resemble Guy too much. Elizabeth could have accounted every trait to some of her ancestors, but Vaisey still had eyes. And he was not stupid; especially not now that he was on guard.

_Tread carefully._

"And what a weak woman it had been." This topic was initiated by the scribe interrupting their meal, bringing in the proclamation of Ines being outlawed, officially, "Not a very capable one."

Vaisey's brow raised; "Oh? So you were not friends?" He regarded her with interest-and there was something predatory in his eyes. He would have loved it if she slipped and said something she should not have. _No such luck-you are being fooled by a woman, too._

"We were." She said, somewhat tiredly, "She was one of the few ladies I could have borne-probably because I had known her for so long. But she had never been strong or capable."

"Unlike yourself?" Heavy sarcasm rested in the Sheriff's voice, and on his face.

Elizabeth smiled widely, raising her head, "Unlike myself." She wished the chandeliere would drop on his head for the sarcasm. Vaisey had no reason not to see her a strong or capable. Maybe the outlaws incident---No, what Vaisey thought of her did not matter. Still; she hated being seen as weaker by anyone.

Vaisey's grin seemed ice cold, "How very treacherous you are, my dear. Picking your friends thusly."

She produced a light snort, "Do you not do the same, my lord? You do not pick friends, but subordinates." Her eyes darted to Guy briefly.

The Sheriff's look followed, and he was silent for a second, before laughing a low, deep chuckle.

Elizabeth wanted for_ burning_ chandeliers to fall onto his head now. Oh, she would have liked strangling him with her bare hands, too. She hated these situations more and more, when she had to prove her loyalty repeatedly by aiding Vaisey's berating of Guy. But she could not ever show it. It was about their lives; in all meanings of the word.

Ines had made the stupid choice. No one would have doubted her for being with Hood; Elizabeth had, quite frankly, thought it must have been a joke, until she was shown the letter. She would have never given Ines enough guts for such an endeavour. Escape had been stupid. She could have been the perfect spy, and she could have kept both her position and her love-she and Hood must have had regular meetings, when they had managed to produce Roger(she had actually liked the child of _Hood_)-and no one had been watching Ines. If Ines loved Hood at all; but she had to, doing all she had done for him. _She ran away. Gave everything away. _We _will never do such a thing._

They would keep the power and the love. They would be competent enough to manage.

"A valid point. Weak, incompetent-it pretty much sums you up, eh, Gisborne?" Guy gritted his teeth, focusing on a point above the Sheriff's head in silence. Elizabeth kept the sly expression on, sipping more wine. She tried for the goblet to last as long as it was possible, but she was a fast drinker. Matilda claimed it was horrible for the pregnancy, and unhealthy, not to mention unladylike. Elizabeth ignored the polite advice. She drank until she felt she had had enough.

"You see I am capable of noticing, at least, my lord." She chimed, inserting a chortle. She did not want to look at Guy-she_ wanted_ to, but could not-lately, it was becoming difficult to keep the apology out of her eyes before preparation. So, she looked at him a few seconds later, with a devious smirk, which had to have Vaisey convinced at least partially.

"Well." The Sheriff's tone was unimpressed, "Even the worst have some qualities, my dear. Feel free to keep that one. It is useful." He twitched his head, throwing a piece of meat from his plate into his mouth, "Now," He spoke as he chewed, "We've come to the conclusion of the day-Gisborne's incompetence. We can focus on more important things." Another piece of meat, and some drink, "If we're to have a son," One of his fingers pointed towards Elizabeth, while his eyes went thoughtfully towards the ceiling, "We'll name him John. Or John Henry-to honor Prince John and his father. A good apology, don't you think?"

Elizabeth nodded, smiling as pleasantly as she could have, "I agree. And if the child happens to be female?"

A couple of months ago, she had lectured Ines over letting her husband pick the names. Of course, the situation was hardly the same. Ines had not had to worry over being in favor of her husband or of ridding herself of the suspicions of sleeping with his lieutenant. Elizabeth wondered what Guy thought of the name John Henry. They would laugh over that later-much later, when they got to be alone together again. She had to write the laughable moments down in her mind, because one of their meetings did not seem likely to repeat soon. _We'll never get to argue over the name together. _

Never mind that; they got much more. Unlike, currently, Ines and Hood.

"Davina." It came quickly, "To honor my sister."

Vaisey rarely mentioned his sister. Guy had told Elizabeth, however, that she must have been the only person he had cared about. She had been killed by Hood; it had been the sole time Vaisey had shown sadness over someone's death. Was it possible, though, that he would rather honor her than Prince John, when possible?

"And Joanna as a middle name-to honor Prince John, again?" She suggested.

"Yes. Yes, of course." Vaisey seemed to snap from the brief distraction, "Of course! Ah, as for catching Hood-again-we need to think of a new trick, thanks to the gullibility of some…"

The rest of the meal proceeded as normal, with Elizabeth praising herself endlessly for managing as well as she did with this set of circumstances.

* * *

"I think you have to know, Robin…I wanted to say it sooner, but we were so busy…" Ines was sitting on the edge of the impovised bed deep within Sherwood forest, next to Robin, looking at the floor-which was full of fallen-off leaves, "Guy and Elizabeth are…sleeping together."

Robin craned an eyebrow, "Vaisey's wife?" He sounded surprised, which pleased Ines-she had delivered useful information to him.

"Yes." She replied shortly, meeting his eye, then looking away again. It was in her upbringing; looking demurely down when conversing with someone. Robin was trying to amend that, but it went deeper than just the surface.

"They haven't gotten caught yet?"

"No, they have not. I have only found that out on the night of my…run, so…I didn't know. I would have told you sooner if I did." Excuses and apologies were also mechanical and she was impulsively that way. She heard Robin sigh, and cup her face with his hands, drawing nearer.

"Ines. I know. You don't have to justify yourself to me. I know you're loyal to me, I know you love me." He kissed her softly, "And I love you back."

It elated Ines to hear this immensely. Color flushed into her face, as it did every time they spoke of love, and she beamed widely. Robin was handsome, Robin was a hero, Robin wanted and loved _her_. This made her feel much more content than thinking Guy had chosen her for marriage all that time ago. Actually, it did not-she had been much happier then. Until Guy had told her Vaisey had done the choosing, and that he had not cared who he ended up with at all. Not that Ines had ever shared that with anyone.

Now, it certainly seemed Guy would have made his choice. She had not believed it at first sight; the two of them, together. He and Elizabeth had been like rabid dogs with each other. They still were. Probably, they were just pretending. _I don't care if my husband wants you. My hero wants me._

"I love you, yes." Her gaze drifted towards another bed, smaller, on which a small bundle rested, "And we have a baby."

"We do." Robin looked at the child as well, "We do." His hands slid to her waist, "And he's here…with us. And you're both with me." He sounded incredibly satisfied upon speaking that.

Ines feasted on his satisfaction, "Robin…" And she knew how to make him even more satisfied, "I was thinking…the child, he was named by Guy, after Guy's father…would you like to change that, now? I thought you would like him to be named Richard…since you are working to save King Richard, after all…"

Robin laughed, "I'd love that." Then, just as she was about to be as bold as to kiss him, he turned away, his face long.

"Robin? Is something wrong?"

What had she said that was improper? Or unsatisfactory? Surely she had not been responsible for this change of attitude.

"It's…" He hesitated. Ines did not move, looking at him anxiously. He was not about to say he did not really want her, was he? He could not. He had loved and wanted her ever since their first meetings, when he had not known her to be Lady Gisborne yet. When he had met her during one of her walks to the river, where she'd cried when she had realized marriage to Guy would never be all it had been cracked up to be. By the time she had told him who she was, he had not been put off-instantly, he had, but it had not lasted long. He had felt more pity for her, and he had cared for her all the more.

"It's saving King Richard." He ran a hand through his hair, and Ines felt a huge weight fall down from her petite chest, "We aren't doing anything to save him."

This took her aback, "What do you mean?" Her head bolted upwards, "You are working to get the ransom required…are you not?"

At her utter surprise, he shook his head no.

"You aren't?" But of course they were. This was some kind of a joke. Robin being humble. Humility was another trait heroes shared, "Now, Robin, you are trying not to brag..! Everybody knows that you are doing all you can to help King Richard…" And once the King return, he would raise Robin higher than he had ever intended on being. _My Robin. _And she, by his side.

"Ines…" He looked at her, and he looked pained, but that was just the way Robin always looked when discussing important matters, "That's what I wanted to do. But the gang…they…they are right. If I do gather the money, there's no one to give it to, and Duke Leopold certainly wouldn't accept the money coming from us. King Richard…King Richard will or will not return. But our duty…my duty…is to take care of his people in his name. Do what little good we can."

Impossible. Ines frowned; on the inside, only, keeping her face a steady mask. What was he saying? The King Richard had to return.

"Robin…but…if…if…if King Richard doesn't return…" England would have another ruler. King Richard had no children, "Prince John will rule…" They had to make certain King Richard returned. If not, they would never be given due credit as heroes who had saved the land. Robin would be treated…they would be treated…, "We'll be just…outlaws!"

His hand rested reassuringly-or that was, at least, what his intentions must have been-on her shoulder, "The people will know. We will not be forgotten."

Not forgotten.

Not by the people.

Smiling nervously, she nodded, barely listening to his excuse for leaving in order to patrol-see whether they were followed. He had not noticed her horror, her terror, nor her shock. He must have accounted it all to exhaustion. Ladies could have always gotten away with exhaustion.

Exhaustion, however, would not help her if she was caught by the Sheriff's men. And if King Richard never returned, that was bound to happen. If Prince John was to become King John-if he was to be King-she and Robin would never rise from the dirt. The honors would go to other people; people such as Elizabeth…her husband…Guy. Robin would never be officially recognized as the hero. The people-the people made no difference!

Tears began forming in her eyes, and she threw herself into the blanket, muffling her cries. _What have I done? _If she only hadn't written the letter. If she only hadn't buried it all with that, one piece of paper.

But she had wanted to make sure she was not left behind. Now, all was gone-what kind of life avaited her now? She did love Robin, yes, but what kind of love would it be, with him as nothing but a common outlaw? He would not be her hero anymore, just the hero of the peasants. And there was no going back.

Ines would never be the lady. She would just be an outlaw's wench.

She had ruined her life.

Robin loved Ines. He did not love her the same way he had Marian-he would never love anyone the way he had loved Marian. Ines was a sweet woman-sour, but not in her behavior towards others; sour towards herself. Always quick to apologize, always quick to take blame. He had kissed her the first time when he had found out she was married to Guy of Gisborne. Before that, he had thought her to be just a woman with an uncaring husband who had had her illusions and dreams broken apart.

Djaq had told him to be careful when she had found out of them. She had told him that he had to examine the possibility he was only with Ines, who loved him, because she belonged to Gisborne. Robin had denied it. He cared for Ines. Every time she averted her eyes and every time she stuttered, he felt remorse and wanted to hold her tight. _Remorse. _

Remorse, though he did not know how anything could have been his fault.

Gisborne did not care for Ines. He did not love or desire Ines; he desired Elizabeth, the Sheriff's woman, the treasonous, poisonous snake of a woman. _Both of them are a good match with her. _This woman's-Ines'-disappearance or death would not have hurt Gisborne at all. Neither would that of the baby, which he now knew was Robin's. Robin knew _all this_.

This had to be proof enough, even for Djaq.

Still, it would injure his pride. Robin earnestly hoped for that. Burned for it. Gisborne had wanted to take his Marian. He had, most likely, been involved in the death of Marian. The least he deserved was some injured pride. His own wife, submissive and meek by nature, escaping with him, Robin Hood.

And _he_ loved Ines.

Truly…he did.

Just as she loved him.


	16. Eyes Like Hers

**Chapter Sixteen**

The eyes were like hers.

It was the first thing Lady Elizabeth Vaisey thought when they handed her her own, firstborn child, her son, John Henry Vaisey. A big, strong baby, with nothing slight about him, bits of dark hair on the top of his head-and her eyes.

"Your son, my lady." Matilda Carnan stood by her side, wiping her hands in a towel, "He has your eyes."

The addition was most comical, considering her own thoughts, and Elizabeth laughed, the sound louder than the cries. The baby did not cry much-he had only just begun, and was already calming down. She looked down upon him, and smiled at his curious expression.

"Hello, there. John-I'm sorry about the name, but….your father picked it." His father-she had to have said it, for anyone could have been listening, if at the door or somehow else. Paranoia was mandatory for the weeks before and after the birth-especially since the baby was 'two weeks early'-in reality, thirteen days late. As much as Elizabeth would have adored her son having blue eyes like Guy's, the relief because of the flint black pools was there due to her desire to keep herself, her lover and her child at life. Vaisey was wary, and the more the child was inclined to resemble the true father, the greater the danger would be.

"I shall go and notify the Sheriff, my lady." Matilda sounded, letting go of the towel. Elizabeth nodded, preoccupied with the way her son's hand clung to her own finger, and the way he scooted around, looking for her breast. If only Guy was there to see him.

Guy was, she thought as she absently registered the sound of the door closing behind Matilda, would be on his way home from London-together with Prince John. He had left six days ago, when the news of King Richard's return reached them. John demanded an escort, in order to come to Nottingham and come to an agreement with the Black Knights on their further course of action. Elizabeth had supposed they would either act decisively-which would be difficult, not knowing where the King would land-or lay low. She hoped they would act decisively in a different manner, as she had told Vaisey-they could easily poison the King in London, instead of waiting for years-and that way, they would have all Richard's supporters gathered, therefore presented with an opportunity to eliminate them.

Vaisey had actually kissed her at this.

The fact that Richard's demise might have begun with her words-or at least the last part of the demise, for he had signed his own death sentence the moment he had left for the Crusades-made her feel very pleased about herself. And important. Important, she and Vaisey would be, once John was finally King. All would pay off.

"My dear!" The voice, bordering on ironic, belonged to the person she'd just been thinking of, and was accompanied by screeching of the door. Vaisey entered, a huge grin plastered on his face. This did not mean he was in the good mood-he had had such a grin on before the worst of his outbursts. Nothing was certain with her husband, especially when political events were as wild as they currently were.

"My lord." John began suckling, quite hungrily, just as she looked at Vaisey, returning his smile, "Come see your son."

The Sheriff was already making his way towards the bed, halting and looking down upon what he believed was his offspring. His expression had not soured-perhaps he was genuinely content. What mattered was that he was not doubtful.

Elizabeth felt her heartbat increase as he extended his hand, taking hold of the baby's head and turning it away from her nipple, towards him. John, surprisingly, did not seem to mind enough to begin crying. He just squirmed-Vaisey held him thusly for a few seconds. Elizabeth was in a dilemma whether to speak or to remain silent. In the end, she opted for what was supposed to come across as cheerful silence, and motherly pride.

In the end, Vaisey let go of her son's head, blinking, and widening his simper.

"John Henry." What a relief. Huffing amusedly, she let John return to feeding, cocking her head to gaze at Vaisey. She could not wait to tell Guy they had managed to deceive him.

"It's good he was a bit early-he is just in time for Prince John's arrival." Her eyes jumped briefly to the baby, "And all the strong ones do come out early." Or late-because her son was certainly strong.

Vaisey nodded, his fingers dancing on his chin. Pondering over something, he was. She felt compelled to at least feign interest; and she did want to know. Especially since she was being scanned by his stare, despite the fact it was seemingly distant.

"All the plans are going…accordingly, I suppose, milord?" She inquired tenatively with a craning of an eyebrow.

"Mhm? Yes, yes of course." He waved his hand, giving her a somehwat disdainful look, "You shouldn't concern yourself with that." Then he laughed, "You do have some insight, I'll grant you that…but you remain just a woman." Oh, how she wished she could tell him all that woman had managed to slip right under his nose without him seeing. But doing that would have only proved his point, in reality, "A woman who has a child. And is to have more, soon."

Her smile froze, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" Vaisey sat down onto the bed, taking John's foot into his hand and playing with it, his eyes remaining locked with hers, "I want another child. A girl-to marry off. As soon as our…physician says it's acceptable-you don't have to survive, but the baby does."

Now, her smile was gone, and she batted her eyelashes, searching him for signs of jesting. No, it did not surprise her when she found none-of course he did not care whether she lived or died, she had known that for a long time. The part about having another child, to marry off…should not have come as astonishing, either. How blunt he was about it was.

To some point, it entertained her endlessly.

He was waiting for an answer, though. And she would provide him with one. Chuckling, she paid heed to the peaceful John.

"I suppose John would not mind having a sister. Do you already have someone for her to marry in mind?"

Moments like these where what Vaisey enjoyed about her. And she did not despise him during those moments, either. He, to some degree, knew how to appreciate her unconventional and unfeminine opinions, her displays of brutality and ruthlessness. When she spoke of murder to someone else-save for Guy-they cringed. Vaisey was nicer to her thanks to it. The fact she was not protesting when asked to create a child just to sell it qualified just as fine. And the fact she was hardly hurt at him claiming her survival was of no consequence.

He let go of John, folding his arms and looking upwards; "Well, there is a bastard son of Prince John, he's about four now. If she's born soon, they'll be just the perfect age for each other."

"I like it." She did, honestly. She had married for position and political ties, too. She expected no less from her children. Furthermore, she would teach them to think that way. John, and later Davina, would not have to fight to become ruthless and calculating-it would be in their blood by the time they were five,

"How about John?"

This was not half as bad, chatting with Vaisey as if they were happily married. Of course, she had to keep in mind this was a rarity. And he was a pig.

"He will find someone eventually. He'll be my heir, so he'll marry for alliances or, most likely money—"

"Like us."

The twinkle in his eyes betrayed the genuinety of his smirk; "Like us. Though he will marry an Englishwoman. I was never looking for marriage in the first place. But you were ready to spoil my brilliant plan, so I had to prevent that."

Elizabeth knew_ that_ very well. When she had just found out, she had thought she would never be able to laugh about it. But now, she did. It was inevitable. Time healed all, despite the musings of some that claimed otherwise.

"How comes you did not get rid of me as soon as you could?" She could have already imagined Matilda lecturing how such questions were very dangerous. Elizabeth thought otherwise. Her husband fancied such questions, and replying to them. Besides, he was not suspecting John's parentage anymore. Thinking of that made her relive all the relief the knowledge of that carried along.

Cocking his head, he frowned almost comically, silent for a few moments. She chuckled again, wiggling her finger, "Ah, I hope I didn't give you a new idea, now!" She really did hope that. Vaisey, though, just shook his head.

"No. Oh, no." He pulled himself closer, leaning in very close. His voice was a whisper, and he appeared completely serious-even threatening, "My dear, I will not get rid of you. Ever. When I need money, your father sends me money. Richard's capture had to be organized by someone-your father and brother played important roles. If you were dead, all of that would be off. Even if you happened to do something wrong…" He spread his arms wide, "I'd be merciful and I would publically forgive you." A devious grin, "Someone else would take the fall for you." Arms dropping by the side, he got up, staring her down, "Always."

_My life was never in danger. The execution writs were a show-at least, mine was. _It was just Guy's life that had been hanging by the thread.

Elizabeth felt even more pride for the murder she had committed.

But another surge of relief she felt at these news made her feel, frankly, disgusted by herself. She felt this so suddenly she did not have the time to deny it or twist it. _I love him, and I'm happy because he's the only one risking his life. _That was normal-and ruthless people did care for themselves and their own well-being more than that of others. But the disgust was not supposed to be there.

Currently, though, she did not know whether she was more disturbed by the fact she was feeling disgusted with herself, or by the fact she had felt the relief in the first place. Her thouhgts were more focused on the latter.

"Thank you." She forced the most dastardly smile she could have mustered, "Or, perhaps, I should be thanking my father and brother, instead."

Vaisey chortled, "I'd prefer it if you thanked me. Now, I have work to do. Make sure you look presentable for Prince John…and make John Henry presentable, as well. The feast is tomorrow. We'll get onto creating his sister soon enough." He waved at her with a sarcastic wink, twirling and leaving the room with no other greeting.

Elizabeth gazed after him, her mind in quite a turmoil. She knew of one thing-she would not share what she had just learned with Guy. If he was the only one risking-no, no, _no_. She would tell him.

She had to. She loved him. He had to know everything. Secrets between the two of them were simply not necessary. And she felt she could not have borne them. _He will not leave me because of it. _It was all the same to him, for he put his life on the line whether she did or not. Actually, it was easier this way, for both of them. If, for example…Vaisey saw her kissing Guy, they could have, with little reprecussions, planted someone else as her fake lover, as they'd placed the fake Nightwatchman. This only made things better.

_I will tell him. _He would be back tomorrow. Elizabeth could hardly wait to see him-and to show him their son. Though the son would never know his true father. Sad-but necessary.

* * *

Prince John had been boring company to travel with. Guy had hardly waited for arrival to Nottingham, for more reasons. One of the reasons had also made him dread it. By the time they came, Elizabeth would have most certainly already given birth to their child. His and hers. So, he finally would have known if he was to hang or if he was to go on with life as planned.

Truning away and escaping had crossed his mind, but never as a serious option. As he stood in front of the stairway before the entrance, waiting for Vaisey to come out to greet the Prince, he knew this had been his only choice. Waiting to face his fate. And to pray to the gods and the devils of this world the child looked like her.

"Your Highness!" The fact Vaisey's chime was pleased and content meant nothing. The Sheriff was an actor, just like Elizabeth-only much, much better and consistent in what he did. Guy looked up at him, and saw his usual, courtly grin. He did not even glance at him, Prince John holding all of his attention, "Allow me to welcome you to Nottingham!"

"Yes." Prince John was bored. He was eying the streets before, and they had not left him impressed. Guy had a feeling he was expecting the people to come out and cheer for him, in spite of the gloomy skies. They had not, so he was also displeased as he climbed the steps. Guy followed closely behind, not knowing what to make of the fact Elizabeth was not with her husband yet. Resting from the birth? In the bed, or in the dungeons?, "Have you made certain my people know they owe all they have to me, Sheriff?"

Guy let his mind trail off as he listened to Vaisey's plain sucking up and attempts at improving the Prince's mood. Even if he had arrested Elizabeth, or killed her already, he would not have said anything in front of Prince John. What if he had not killed her; what if she had died in childbirth? Much more visceral, due to the fact he had not run such a scenario through his head for a million times during the last few days, this made him feel a large amount of concern. Perhaps she was dying, right now. If that was the case-Guy suddenly wanted to leave both the Sheriff and the Prince be, and run to check whether she was all right.

What would he do if she died-_really died_? Thinking of Vaisey killing them had been something that had become their routine. They laughed about it, they worried about it, they were prone to avoiding it. They had never even thought one of them could meet their end in some other manner. _Such as childbirth._

If she died…_if she died_…he would---

"—opportune, to meet my son. Named after you-John, and after your father, Henry."

_Thank the gods and the devils. _His son, Vaisey had said. They had not been caught. They would go on with their charades, just with another actor invovled. Holding in a wheeze of relief, Guy followed the Sheriff's extended arm with his look, ending up on Elizabeth, who had appeared carrying a large bundle.

She still looked somewhat pale. She should not have been up yet. But the apology had to be extended to Prince John, from no one save for her. 'The apology' being a large, strangely silent baby. _My son. _Elizabeth, save for the pallor, did not betray any other sign of illness or weakness. She approached Prince John, smiling at him and curtsying-still not as deeply as she could have. _Perhaps she's in pain. _Or she was just sticking to some of her pride.

"Your Highness." Politely, she addressed John, "I know that we have had differences, due to my inexplicable behavior. I remain eternally thankful for your merciful conduct towards me, while I had deserved greater punishment. So, I am honored to present to you John Henry Vaisey-named in the honor of Your Highness, and your father."

Guy knew what she and Vaisey had aimed of straight off. Later, Vaisey would undoubtedly tell the Prince how he had been harder and stricter on his wife, therefore bringing her into proper order and 'healing' her trauma. She would be the epithome of charming towards John, and he would be happier than ever. Restoring them his full favor.

Even Elizabeth would be pleased with the elegance of the act, save for the fact a part of her would always fume because she'd had to humble herself as much before the Prince. Guy would let her tell him all about it later. With all the confusion in the castle, not even Matilda Carnan would be able to claim they couldn't pass unnoticed. He could hardly wait-he hadn't touched her in nearly two weeks.

"Oh!" Prince John looked down at the baby, leaning ever so slightly, "How apt!" His hand flew to his chest, and Guy wanted to roll his eyes desperately, "I am known for my mercy, of course. But this is very appropriate! Do take him out of the heat…" His eyes met Elizabeth's, and looking at him, Guy saw contempt there, still, "And you should find him a governess, Sheriff Vaisey…I know it is not _your _fault, milady, but we would not want…" He swayed in thought, "Negative influences." Raising his head, he surpassed Elizabeth, heading towards the door, "The feast is about to begin!" He announced, disappearing, followed by Vaisey. Guy lingered behind just long enough to exchange wary glances with Elizabeth, and to look briefly at the newborn-his newborn, with Elizabeth's eyes and dark hair- before going in as well.

Currently, he very much wanted to murder Prince John. He knew Elizabeth wanted the same, and she would have enjoyed it very much. But she had concealed it better than usual. She was improving at this game; learning how to play the proper part. This was good.

Still, he found himself hardly waiting for an earful of her anger and curses. Of course he was glad she had not served that to Prince John. But he, truthfully, did not want for her fierceness, her fire to be stifled permanently, specially knowing how important her reputation was to her. _I'd rather have her shout at me for the entire night than have her be known as pale and controlled for the rest of her days..she'd hate that too much, as would I. _No-then, they would be heard. Whisper foul things in his ear, then. Which would not be the same.

It was the price they had to pay. They had to be tamed, or pretend to be tamed. He had been well-trained during all the years; he had learned to hold back his temper and to endure all sorts of humiliations on the road to power. Every time he had had doubts, he only had to think of his dead parents and how failing would be a stain on their just as on his name. He had been that way long before he had met _her_.

Elizabeth, though-Elizabeth would not have been Elizabeth without that defiant streak, telling her to pretend she was a beast even when she was at her most vulnerable. Telling her to act spite even when it brought her nothing but harm. And having him save her.

Throughout the feast, those words echoed within his skull. _Save her. _John Henry had been taken away from her, and was in the arms of an uknown woman-not even Matilda. She was smiling at Prince John, the man who had tried to rape her(though, technically, all belonged to the sovereign, so he could not be accused of rape).

The Sheriff's wife did not need saving; the Lady of Nottingham was thriving. Soon, they'd all have wealth and power beyond anything. But Elizabeth-did _Elizabeth _have it as perfect?

Sure, she did. This was what Elizabeth wanted. Like him, she could have made no other choice. She wanted to stay here and advance. It was a topic useless to bring up; because she wasn't Marian. Unlike Marian, she was doing what was best for her and for him. _That is why I love her. _

And that was why they had to go on this way, paying all the prices that came along.

* * *

"I have to, Djaq, can't you _see_?" Tears rolling from her eyes, Ines buried her head into her hands, dropping onto the leaves and leaning against a tree, "I have to!"

She heard footsteps as Djaq approached her, and a hand on her shoulder as she crouched down next to her. It was good that she had been the one to catch her. Had it been anyone else, Robin would have already been here, for certain. With Djaq, she had a chance of still going through with her intentions; if a very slim chance, and certainly not right away. Which was partially why the tears came.

She had been preparing for her escape from the encampment for months. Now, she had finally plucked up the courage. For the last week, the same would have repeated-she would have put on her darkest cloak, and never made it past the first door, overhwelmed by fear, doubt, uncertainity. When she had finally begun actually running-she had to be caught.

"You don't have to." Djaq was speaking slowly, softly, comfortingly, "You don't have to do anything. You have Robin…you have Richard."

This unnerved and annoyed her in ways she could not have even described. Snorting, and shaking her head, she saw the Saracen as nothing but a fool. Elizabeth had been right-Elizabeth, who had now given birth to Sheriff Vaisey's son, who had returned the favor of Prince John-when she had simply found herself the most powerful man she could have, staying with him and having material, real, visible things as her aspirations. Not glory and fairytales. Not morality. Not love.

She looked up at Djaq's dark eyes, almost chuckling with hysteria and the idiocy of her situation; "I have _nothing_."

No shock, no surprise displayed on the face before her, and Ines found that very irritating. All that was there was…nothing! She wanted her to scream, she wanted to scream, and she wanted for the entire world to scream with her and see how she felt.

Stoic, but gentle, Djaq asked, "Do you not love your son? And Robin?"

Ines paused before replying. Did she? She had been certain she loved Robin before. It had been so easy and wonderful to love him from the warm rooms of Locksley Manor-having her own personal hero desire her when her own husband did not. It had been wonderful to love her son then, too, who had been Roger at the time and who had reminded her of her hero.

Now, in the forest, it was different and it was so much more difficult. Now, she was cold and without all the lavish food, she wore all the same clothing and hardly bathed as much. Now, her son was Richard and reminded her of the life she had thrown away; and Robin was not even a hero to anyone but peasants.

Thinking of it made her push away from the floor, desperately turning her back to Djaq.

"I wanted to be a _lady_." She sniffed, "Is that so hard to understand, Djaq? Does it make me so horrible? I came to England to become a greater lady. I wanted Robin to be my hero, the hero who would…_dashin_g…sweep me off my feet and have us live happily and richfully ever after…!"

"Robin is a hero, milady." Oh, what ignorance, what stupidity, what blindness! Still, Ines liked being called 'milady'. It softened her weak temper; "The people shall always praise him."

"The people!" Ines exclaimed, clasping her hands and laughing maniacally, "The people," She turned to face Djaq again, more tears running from her eyes, "The people_ don't_ matter. _They _will not give me dresses, money, food, jewelery, they will not build me a house, they will not make me rich; they will not give me all the things that make a true lady. _They_ will only see him as their savior, and ignore me."

Djaq still did not move, regarding her with-pity? Good. She deserved pity, after all she had endured. She deserved it more than anyone.

Djaq made a step forward.

"Tell me what you will do."

Steel was in her voice, steal Ines found herself unable to ignore. She was caught, anyway. If Djaq saw what she was about to do-and if she saw it would not harm the gang, at all-she would, maybe, let her leave silently. Oh, how Ines prayed for that. Robin had no right to complain-she was even leaving Richard with him. _It does not sound well, but I am glad to._

She sighed.

"I will go to the Sheriff." Her figners trembled as they tightened the laces of her cloak, her eyes focused on them, "I will tell him of Guy and Elizabeth. Prove it to him. Beg for something in return. Djaq…" She looked up, tasting her own uncertainity and how desperate for reassurance she was, "Djaq, he has to say yes. My family is prominent in Croatia-they will pay if necessary. And I will never bring any of you into peril, I swear it! Just Guy and Elizabeth…just them."

"What if the Sheriff does not find that enogh?"

"My family will pay!" Ines squealed at the skepticism, "They will!"

"The Sheriff might decide to kill you, for aiding us."

"He _can't_!" It was what she had dreaded, and it was what she had not wanted to hear said out loud, "I'll say…I'll say—"

"You left the letter. You cannot say anything."

No, this was not what she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear different things. Biting down on her lip, she shook her head violently.

"No, no, no! He will spare an innocent woman!" Every word was heavy, "I'll tell him I was deluded…I'll tell him you beat me. I'll make something up, I_ have_ to."

There was long silence, interrupted by nothing save for hiccups from Ines here and there. Finally, Djaq approached her, looking her straight in the eyes.

"My lady, I will tell you what I will do. I will turn around, and return to my cot. I will leave you here alone, give you time to think. To think about Robin, Richard; your plan. Then, I will come back-and see if you are still here."

With that, she was gone.

Ines stared after her for a whole few minutes.

Then, she turned into the forest and ran.

Two days later, news of King Richard's return reached the outlaw camp of Robin Hood. Two days later, Ines was back as well, avoiding Djaq and loving Robin more than ever.


	17. Hold Your Tongue

**NOTE: **_Well, here it is. :) Enjoy! _

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Prince John wishes to see you."

Elizabeth raised her eyes from the embroidery she had tried to focus on, for lack of anything else, raising her eyebrows high up at Guy.

He had entered her room, the door opened to him by Matilda, and she had only seen him with her when he had addressed her. She would have dropped her embroidery, had the surprise not frozen her movements.

"Price John? Me? Why?" She blurted out, quickly, not seeing any reason for him to want for her company. Unless he intended on renewing their…relationship…in a more thorough way. _At which I should think with more enthusiasm. _It was what they wanted, since it would have brought them all they had to work for harder otherwise in one, simple move. Simple…yes, simple.

Guy made a pace closer towards her, shaking his head, "I do not know, I was sent to get you." He focused on her, "Immediately."

Elizabeth, a quizzical expression still prevailing on her face, got to her feet, straightening her blue dress, "All right. The Sheriff's study?"

"Yes." She looked at him for a few more moments, looking at his blue eyes, fighting the urge to kiss him. Then, deciding they would do that later, she began making her way past him.

However, a hand on her chest stopped her, and she witnessed herself being pulled into a kiss, by him. She gave in, satisfied, and let him be the one to pull away, too.

"Be careful." He whispered, and there was genuine concern behind the coldness of his orbs, "If you…play it right, you might not be banished from London for too long."

"Really?" She instinctively placed her hand over his, her brow furrowing, "Has he said that?"

Guy snorted, "No." He looked at her with a smirk, "A guess. After all the years with Vaisey, I think I do know something."

Elizabeth kissed him, and they embraced each other this time, too. With his hands all over her body and his tongue intertwined with hers, Prince John, suddenly, seemed very distant and unimportant. Unfortunately, he was neither.

Guy was the first to remember that; "You must go." He breathed, holding her away, "We have to see each other soon." The rushed addition made her grin widely.

"Of course. Where, when, name it." They had last met the day before yesterday, in her room, when Vaisey had been in a private meeting with the Prince. _We were in a private meeting, too. _Very private. Remembering made her cackle, "My room, again?"

Guy frowned briefly, "No." He looked down at her with actual mischief, "Allan's. Who would ever guess we were in Allan's room?"

"No one." Elizabeth licked her lips, hardly waiting, "It won't be suspicious if you are found there, because he is your right-hand man, and I…I can always hide and pretend I went for a walk to…soothe my nerves?" She ended suggestively.

"Hmph." Guy huffed with mock irritation, "_Your_ nerves could not be soothed by a thousand mile walk."

Elizabeth waved her hand, wiggling out of his hold, "Yes, yes. Now, I really have to go." She batted her eyelashes at him teasingly, "Accompany me…lover?"

Clasping a hand over his eyes and chortling, Guy nodded.

"Aye, milady." He folded his arms, "Do not expect me to hold the door for you. And do not let someone overhear you."

"Oh, all _right._" She rolled her eyes, reaching for the door, "_Sir_ lover. And chivalry completely _is_ dead."

What a damnable creature she could be, Guy thought. Just as the only one who made him genuinely laugh.

* * *

Elizabeth had not spoken properly to Prince John since the day of his arrival. Five days had passed since then-and five days since she had last held her own son. She had managed to hold her mind off that subject. Seeing the Prince, alone, with not even her husband nearby, brought it right back.

Now, she was certain it had never left her subconsciousness, at least.

"Ah, Lady Elizabeth." Prince John was not in the best of spirits, "Sit down."

She did, on the chair opposite of his, while he occupied where Vaisey usually sat; more lying than sitting in the chair, his legs swinging over the side.

"Your Highness." Naturally, she had curtsied before, "I was told you requested to see me."

John played with a quill he had found on the desk. _Prince _John-John was now her son. Or John Henry; middle names usually were not in constant use.

Why could she not have just forgotten? With Guy, she had managed to. With embroidery, she had had to put in a lot more effort, but she had been succesful to some extent. Now, there was not much to prevent her. It had been Prince John's idea to take her son away, but Vaisey, she felt, would have done it anyway. It vexed her mostly because it was not Vaisey's son at all. Sometimes, she would catch herself yearning to say that out loud, but always bit on her tongue-quite literally.

"I did." The Prince went on, "I understand, by what your husband tells me, you are willing to do some work for us."

This was a surprise. A good one, of course. He did not consider her completely crazy if he was offering her to help him. Smiling, she nodded.

"Yes, certainly." She cocked her head, "You have work for me to do?"

"Ah!" John jumped up, throwing away the quill, "The famed bluntness I used to like." He looked down at her, his whiny expression at his fullest, "Isabella told me blunt women were usually savage and not refined."

Isabella. Guy's sister. Elizabeth's nostrils flared slightly, and she raised a skeptical eyebrow; "I disagree with Lady Isabella, then. Blunt women are bold, in my opinion." Perhaps he would not fancy her answer, but it had to come out as it was. At times, especially in private, it was hard for her to remember she was supposed to be trying to be more submissive instead of fiercer in front of the monarch.

John shook his head violently, but shortly, "Savages _are_ bold." He complained, his hands on his hips.

Seeing this more as a game than a serious conversation, wondering whether John wanted to sleep with her again, for real, and also knowing full well every game was serious with him, she laughed.

"Well. What's wrong with being a good savage?" She shrugged, "Have you, perhaps, found a savage mission for me to perform?"

Prince John was not very satisfied with her complacent smile, or he hid the satisfaction more than well. Scowling at her openly, he approached her seat, followed by her eyes, so he was in front of her for the entire time. She did not like her back being turned on him. Or on anyone, when conversing-it took away the sense of equality.

"No. I would not call it savage." He halted, in a position that had her half-turned in her seat, a finger on his moustache, "I would call it-easy." He inclined his head, "And rewarding. Ohh_-very_ rewarding, for you."

He had her interested, "Oh. Yes?"

_Probably a mistress proposal. _Prince John, to change his mind as quickly-hardly surprising. Elizabeth knew she would have to say yes. She did not allow that thought to make her uncomfortable.

"I want you…" John came closer still, extending a hand towards her slowly. Elizabeth did not move a millimetre, her eyes focused on his, "I want you to tell Richard-the truth." His hand landed gently on her shoulder.

"The truth?" Had he gone insane? Not what she had expected, this was-and she could not tell whether she was disappointed or content. Telling Richard the truth, though-no. This smelled differently; as foul play, "You mean, the truth of you being the most benevolent, merciful regent praying for his return…standing against all who dared oppose him?" She could not have kept the hopefulness out of her tone-it had to be either that, or her taking on all the blame, somehow. She did not see how, but John would have found a way.

Laughter erupted from him, and he twirled full circle, his looks changing in a brief instant from those of an intimidating ruler to those of a very, very pleased child who had been succesful in one mischief or another.

"Yes. Yes!" Elizabeth felt the hammering of her heart slow down gratefully, "I _do _see your husband was right about you. You could be useful. You will be useful; very useful!" And he clapped his hands in a very infantile fashion.

Smiling with a snort which was both content and mocking, Elizabeth felt just as pleased with herself as he was. Impressing people had always done her well-she had always been eager to do so. So, she went on.

"I shall, by all means, share _the truth_ with Richard. Am I supposed to add a little bit of something?"

"Naturally!" John now jumped to the desk, positioning his royal backside on it, "Naturally." Was it a tendency of his to repeat himself?, "You will tell him…that Robin Hood and his outlaws raped you, and you will be very crushed about it. You will make me look like the finest of regents, who offered you justice; the same as your husband, who must appear a most benevolent Sheriff."

"Of course." She frowned, remembering, "But sire, you did banish me from London…"

"Oh, you can do better than that!" John shifted, "Go on. Pretend I am Richard. Tell me what you would tell him."

A brief silence was all she needed to comprehend what he wished and to come up with a tale, "I," She began, not very quickly, "I was talking to you." Her eyes wandered over to the window, "I had had some wine too much…and I had gone as far as to dare embrace you. When you embraced me back, however, the wine and all the memories intermixed…and I remembered the outlaws…and my mind went blank. I physically assaulted you, and threatened to kill you-I held a dagger at your neck for a brief time. You arrested me, but promptly showed me mercy when the matter was explained to you by Sir Guy."

She looked back at John, who was clapping his hands again, this time most fervently. The twinkle in his eyes had not been ther before.

"Excellent, most excellent! The dagger part-a _nice_ touch! Just tell it to Richard without the smug look, and this will prove very prosperous for you." The lower of his lips pouted in concentration, "And add a bit about…Robin Hood being traitor to the crown, plotting against him…make something up."

Nodding, she directed a questioned that intrigued her mostly, "And may I know how prosperous will this prove…for me?"

"Oh, very." A screech of the table, and John was pacing about again. This time she did not bother to turn around to follow him out of pure laziness, believing they have been equalized enough already. The sound of steps stopped inches behind her, and she felt hot breath on her ear, sending tingles down her spine, "You will not be banished from London, for one. Spending the rest of your life in Nottingham is not something you'd want, is it?" A hand caressed her neck, and she attempted to point her eyes towards it impulsively. Thoughts began lining in her mind, but she decided firmly to put them off for later, "_No. _I would not like that, either. And about that son of yours you so lovingly named after me-I could arrange for you to see him more often…mhm?"

The Prince was touching her. That was supposed to be very, very good. She was supposed not to be doing anything. Swallowing, she twitched her head with a smirk, tired of all the 'very, very's she was encountering today. In a positive way, she assured herself.

"I think I would like that."

It was true. Her ban from London would prevent her from actually being there to witness and aid her children in court-not that she knew too much about the court. If she ever wanted to learn, and go where true prosperity and power lied, she would have to be able to go to the capital.

And John Henry-she would want to see John Henry more often. She was his mother; though he would inevitably spend more time with his so-called father. He was male, and no matter how many unfeminine opinions Elizabeth had to teach him, she was certain Vaisey would do it just as well. Not seeing him at all, though, was not to her liking. She wanted to, at the very least, be able to commend on his progress. Especially since he was Guy's son.

"I knew you would." John continued, "You are sensible, after all…I am almost to begin thinking how you were pretending otherwise just to avoid death sentence."

"Why, yes." She breathed a laugh, "An interesting theory-but I never would deceive you in such a way, Your Highness." Oh, if she ever had, she thought mischievously.

John laughed as well, before going unusually silent. Before she managed to spin round, his lips were pressed against her cheek, and his tongue was caressing her skin.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and was taken aback by how easy it was to pretend it was not unpleasant. To pretend it was Guy. To pretend she liked it and wanted it.

Then it was over, just as it began.

"Yes. You must go to London soon. Did you know Isabella had a husband?" She knew, Guy had told her. If they were thinking of the same Isabella, and she thought they had to, "He has come to seek her. I gave her up. She had never told me of her husband, and she lied to me. _You _have a husband, my dear lady…" He turned her face towards his own, "But men as old as Sheriff Vaisey do have accidents. And you, at least, never lied to me…did you?"

"I did not; ever." She heard herself say before he kissed her. The turmoil of her mind was too twisted to analyze, but she saw one thing very cleary. Prince John would get rid of Vaisey. Some part of her remembered the conversation and the plans she and the Sheriff had had, and she felt a twinge of distaste towards this plan. Then she remembered Vaisey would have been ready to execute Guy, on the spot. And she pushed the remorse away forcibly.

If she was John's mistress; if he disposed of Vaisey, a lot of roads would open up for her. Even as his mistress, she would require a husband. She calculated Guy would inherit Nottingham, at least until John Henry was of age. Yes-John would like for John Henry to inherit. And with that considered, Guy would be a fine match for her. _Marriage to Guy. _It sounded so surreal, bordering with impossible. It had been impossible, until a few moments ago.

Once she married Guy, she would have to spend some time at court, and then she could slowly grow apart from John. And have power and love, all in one. _Brilliant!_

Surges of ecstasy that rushed through her at this made her kiss John back with more passion, something he had obviously enjoyed. He did not know she was thinking of Guy. She could hardly have waited to let Guy know of this.

* * *

"Are you certain this is safe?"

Grinning widely, Elizabeth rolled off Guy, leaning her head on his arm. She had to be careful not to fall off, for Allan A' Dale's bed was barely large enough for two.

"I am. As safe as it can get. I've already spoken to Vaisey and told him what John had asked of me and what he offered in return. He had not suspected a thing." She shrugged nonchalantly, "It's a shame about him. He did have his moments, I suppose." The idea of having her husband murdered still did not lay quite easily on her, but she gathered that would change with time-and she hardly found it believable she had actually grown to like Vaisey to some extent. She had been capable of murdering Barneby, herself. She would be able to do this, too. She had to, again, for her and Guy.

"Marriage." Guy felt the word tasting sour on his tongue, "I wonder how that would look." His previous experiences with it had not been shining. Marian, leaving him at the altar, for Hood; Ines, leaving him for Hood and having Hood's child. Elizabeth would not leave him, though; would she?

She had told him she loved him. She had already had a child that was his, and, by what she said, would one day inherit Nottingham. She had risked her life by remaining with him; or, she had thought she had been doing it until Vaisey let her know he never would have killed her. She had killed a man to save their relationship-that, however, had also saved her own life.

"Like it did last year, only we would have Locksley Manor or Nottingham Castle instead of a one-room hut and annoying neighbours." Elizabeth chortled, meeting his eye, "Oh, and we would not have to cook ourselves. Nor sneak around sentencing peasants to death." A frown crossed over her features, "We would do it still,_ without _the 'sneak' part!" She moved up, kissing him, "Come on-tell me what part of the plan you do not like."

There was no doubt about it, Guy would have loved to have her as his wife. Publically, before the world, without any hiding. He did believe she would not leave him-otherwise, she would have had no reason to go through all this trouble just to marry him, when she was already married to a more powerful man. They were made of the same sort-he did guess what she thought easily, especially after the time they had spent together.

There were parts of the plans that had him feeling chagrin. Elizabeth whoring herself to Prince John. All the time it would take, since thoughts of the future made him feel impatient. The killing of Vaisey made him feel strange emptiness.

But all that he had listed was necessary. Risky, though. Guy, however, would not be implicated, no matter how things turned out, so he did not have himself to worry about as much. Only her. And he did not like _that, _either.

"The uncertainity." He sighed finally, "The risk." He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, Your impatience. You…and Prince John."

She seemed surprised to hear this. Guy wondered if she knew he loved her. In love, it was not surprising when someone did not want their partner to sleep with others. She had to have known, though. All the things he had done for her, all the time he was with her-she had to have realized it, along the way, as he had. The surprise must have come from the fact that, in their relationship, she did sleep with another man, who was her husband. She must have wondered at his disliking the same with another one.

So, dismissing the notion of voicing his love to her, Guy waited for her to come up with one of her supposedly witty answers. A strange sense of humor, his mistress had. _Mine, and soon to be Prince John's. _Eerily, he had not ever used the word 'mistress' for Elizabeth prior to this.

"Prince John is not to my liking-but it is the only way without having Nottingham burned to the ground." She craned her eyebrow, "It is the least risky way, and the one that keeps us in good conditions. As for my impatience-Matilda will be there to guide and advise me."

True. Any other way would have let them at loss. Which was what they had been trying to avoid for the past ten months-and longer, by themselves. If it was not for that, and certain other matters, they would have already been together-perhaps. Matilda _was_ a capable guide, and she knew a lot about surviving and manipulating.

Another thing concerned him, though. And he only realized it now, when he remembered some of the past events concerning Prince John.

"What if he has you imprisoned again? You do have the tendency of not knowing how to hold your tongue. Especially in bed." He didn't quite know what had made him add the last part, save for the fact Elizabeth did tend to talk a lot-_always._

She looked at him pointedly, but playfully, opting not to take the bait and steer off into different topics, "I can pretend. Have you not seen how endearing I was upon his arrival?"

"You did not sleep with him upon his arrival." He pointed out, closing his eyes briefly, trying to blink away the image of Elizabeth next to John, "Or so I have been led to think."

She sat up, disposing of the covers that were tangled around her ankles and jumping straight back onto him. She took him by surprise, but it did not take long for his body to respond. With a devillish simper on her lips, she leaned in and kissed him.

"I'll have to practice, then. Holding my tongue in bed. A _lot_."

Ten minutes later, neither of them was as concerned with the matter of Prince John as before, but when Elizabeth asked about the plan the next time, Guy was much more accepting; though begrudgingly.

Not because her 'feminine wiles' had lured him into it, but because the idea of losing her one day stung worse than all the concerns about this plot together.

Guy supposed she knew that.

* * *

_Will the succeed in getting rid of the Sheriff? Will Elizabeth manage to hold her tongue ;) ? And will something, once again, spoil their plans? _

_Next chapter this weekend :))). Enjoy._


	18. Deceit En Large

**NOTE: **_The beginning of Elizabeth's relationship with Prince John. And the deceit of Richard :D._

**Chapter Eighteen**

Richard The Lionheart had returned to his homeland, his kingdom, and after scarcely three weeks, he was quite sick of ruling it. The war-the war was simple and easy, slicing through enemies until piece or victory was achieved. Strategizing, purely, simply, commanding troops without deceit, manipulation, or schemes. Having the respect of the people for being a good army commander.

Not being forced to deal with rumours of treason; and from his own brother, none the less. Three lords had approached him-three lords of good standing, who had requested their identities to remain secret. They claimed his brother wished for his throne and his death. King Richard had not ever expected love from his brother-but not treason, either. That, never.

Considering all this, he found it a welcome break when a card from a certain Lady Vaisey arrived, asking for an audience in order to speak to him concerning Robin of Locksley.

Richard had not had the time to look up the former member of his private guard, but he was sure that any news or topics concerning him could not have been unpleasant. So, he granted Lady Vaisey her audience, ignoring briefly the more urgent matters, and waited for her in his throne room in due time.

"Your Majesty-Lady Vaisey." The guard announced, and the woman entered. She was handsome, even he could have seen it, in a darker kind of way. For today, she had chosen a green gown that fitted her curves well. Though her curtsy was appropriate, Richard could have seen the confidence of her eyes, and he judged her to be a prideful creature right away.

"Your Majesty." She greeted politely, though somewhat solemnly, "Thank you for allowing me this audience."

There was something familiar about her face, now that she came closer. She was, he had been told, the wife of the Sheriff of Nottingham. He had never met the man, though, and they had married during his absence. His scribe had mentioned to him she was from somewhere in southern or middle Europe. Perhaps he had encountered a relative of hers; he would inquire about that later, if he saw necessary.

"It is my duty to attend to the problems of my subjects." He replied curtly, but his voice softened as he went on, "Though I cannot imagine there to be any problem when this is about Robin of Locksley." What could have a foreign woman wanted to say about him, indeed? Robin had always been quite the ladies' man. Perhaps he had gone a little too far and gotten caught? Richard would not even think of punishing him for that.

Lady Vaisey's eyes wandered over to his, and then abruptly towards the floor. She was not solemn, he noted-she was distressed. And when she drew in a shaky breath, he began to suspect something was off, indeed.

"I…" She began, biting on her upper lip, still looking at the carpets she stood on, "I am aware that he has served you well, Your Majesty-I have been told." She gained on confidence, looking up again, "And that is why I felt obliged to be the one to tell you of this…matter."

"Continue." Perhaps he should have inquired about Robin sooner. Lady Vaisey seemed quite concerned-issuing a royal pardon for someone who had slept with another man's wife would have him look immoral in the eyes of the people.

She breathed in again, folding her hands, nodding her head, "Yes. Your Majesty…two years ago, I arrived here from the Kingdom of Croatia, sent by my father in order to establish myself in England." Croatia-so that was where she was from. That was settled. Richard had never been to that land, though, "During my first month here, I was attacked." She jutted out her chin, and Richard saw her eyes beginning to water, "Attacked-and ravished- by a gang of outlaws led by a man who calls himself Robin Hood-but used to go by the name of Robin…" She swallowed, casting eyes down quickly, "Of Locksley."

"_What?_" The disbelief Richard felt was impossible to describe. In fact, he nearly laughed out loud following his instinct, "Robin of Locksley, a rapist? Pardon me, milady, but that is something I shall not believe as easily."

Now, when she glared up-and it was a glare-her look was that of anger. He was nearly certain she would say something that would have him punishing her for impudence. Instead, her voice was, though on the edge of frost, polite.

"He never showed his face, Your Majesty, to do it personally. He sent his men, instead. So, technically, he is not the rapist."

This woman must have been insane.

"Why on Earth would the Lord of Locksley associate himself with outlaws?" He demanded loudly.

She opened her mouth, and then stopped, staring at him rather dumbfoundedly. Richard wished he could tell the guards to throw her out and be off with her. But he had to-if out of curiosity-hear what she had against Robin.

"Your Majesty…does not know?" Lady Vaisey began, hesitantly, cocking her head, "Robin of Locksley…is an outlaw." She frowned, "One by the name of Robin Hood, now, that has been accused of murder and professing treason against you…Forgive me, I was certain you had known of at least the outlawing, if they already had not informed you of the treason---"

An extended hand from Richard stopped her.

"My lady. I did not quite expect such an…income of information from you. If you would give a moment."

She bowed her head stiffly, and he took the moment he had demanded. Robin of Locksley-professing treason against him. Robin, who had almost given his life in order to save his. And an outlaw. It befitted the characters of the incompetent fools surrounding him not to inform him of such a thing. As a military commander, his soldiers would have always given him all the information necessary.

The fact that he was outlawed, Richard would believe-that obviously could not have been a lie, for it would have been an overly simple one. The others-the others, he would have to investigate further.

"Very well. I believe your words of him being an outlaw." What a fool he had been, expecting easy banter from this audience, "I will need to know more of you, and I will need to be presented with more proof, in order to consider the other accusations."

The Lady Vaisey nodded, "Certainly, Your Majesty. What do you wish to know?"

"Of your birthplace and your family."

"My brithplace is the Kingdom of Croatia, Your Majesty. I come of the Horvat family. My father is Lord Anton, my mother Lady Maria. I am fifth cousin to the King of my land. I have one younger sibling, my brother Ivan."

"Your position there was exalted?"

"My father is one of the King's advisors."

So, the Sheriff Vaisey had married well. With connections such as these, though, the woman could have certainly aimed higher. He had seen people of her brith, and worse, at times, marry Earls at the very least. She certainly could have gotten off with even a Duke. Why choose a Sheriff of no high birth?

"Fine. What were the circumstances of your marriage to the Sheriff?" The questions were personal, but necessary. She did not seem to mind at all, though. Her face was a mask, save for her eyes which burned constantly ever since he had first doubted her.

"I was sent to Nottingham before London, in order to be accustomed to the English ways before appearing in the capital. During my first month, I was taken by the outlaws. When I was returned, Your Majesty must see, I was a ruined woman. I had lost my virginity countless times to them, and no man would have had me unless I brought along more money than I had." She was straightforward, much more than typical English women. He could have seen why she would have needed to become accustomed to their ways. This, though, he considered a trial, and proprieties oft slowed such processes down. He was glad for her lack of some of it.

"Sheriff Vaisey, my lord husband, then began paying court to me. It was not much later that we were engaged to be married. I was surprised, but also not as much, once I gave it better thought. I believe, though he never admitted to it, he felt guilty because it had happened in his shire. The marriage seemed the best course for me."

"You family is not rich?"

"Not as rich as to have a man marry a ruined woman." She straightened, "The situation is not…pleasant in our lands, Your Majesty. That is why I was sent to England, in the first place."

The last thing he needed was to concern himself with the matters of a foreign land. He had enough trouble in his own. She was speaking the truth-with an unstained reputations, her connections were an asset, but when one combined being raped and coming from a troubled country, it changed.

"Now, my lady, I will need to hear the proof of Robin of Locksley's treason." He would have sooner expected it from John than from Robin. John, though, lacked the capability.

"I was not present for all the time, Your Majesty. I do not quite know when and why was he outlawed, but I do know he constantly robs the money my lord husband collects to offer support for your causes. He gives it to the peasants-the people-bribing them into believing you abandoned your country."

"Abandoned my country?" Richard felt seething rage climb up his chest, "Robin of Locksley has been in the Crusades, himself!"

"Well." The lady's lips pursed, "We have wondered about that, too, Your Majesty. Mabye he changed his opinions and therefore returned…we do not quite know that, either. What we do know is that there was an ugly incident in which we had a painting of your brought into our Grand Hall. The following morning, we had found…" She glanced away fleetingly, "…'Coward'…written over it with fresh paint."

"_Coward?_" Richard attempted to keep his composure, the guards jumping at his roar, and Lady Vaisey flinching. No-he had to focus on the logical evidence. Swallowing, he looked at the woman, "How did you know it was Robin of Locksley who had done that?"

"We had not." She replied, "Not at first. Later, however, one of his gang was arrested. He was tortured after his admission, to uncover to my husband the hideout…he began shouting everything and anything, save for what they wanted to know. It was then that the portrait affair was known."

"_After _the admission?" Richard frowned, "After the admission to what?"

The lady blinked, "To my rape, Sire."

"He admitted straight away?"

"I would not know, sire-my husband had had him in the office for some hours before it. When I had been brought to recognize him, however, I did."

"What happened to this man?" If still alive, he would have to be brought to London.

"He was executed." He should have expected this, "For raping me, and for treason against you." She halted abruptly, "Sire, I believe my husband has the admission, signed. For treason-if so, that could be proof."

"It could. Though men admit to plenty of things under torture."

"I must notice, Your Majesty, he was well enough to walk to the gallows on his own."

He gave her a sharp glare. It was a rather heartless thing to say, coming from a woman-but the point was, despite all, there.

"I will have to speak to your husband and see the documents. I find it difficult to believe such a thing about a man who was my most trusted guard for a long time." He paused, "Your husband is here?"

"No, Your Majesty." She shook her head, "I should not be in London, either, but since you agreed upon the audience, my ban was temporarily ignored--"

"Ban?" Richard had not been told anyhing of this. Oh, he had to have a short and angry talk with his court.

"Yes, Your Majesty…" He felt wrath at her obvious scandalization of his ignorance, "During my visit to London some time ago, last year…" She drew in a long breath, "I deserved myself a far worse punishment. I had drunk too much wine at the feast. The feast, to which I was invited by His Highness, your brother, after one of my rapists were caught." She closed her eyess sadly, and when she sounded again, it was a more quiet, less flaunting voice, "He had been a great help…he sent more people in order to look for me when I was captured. He _was_ anxious to catch those who were traitors and plotting against you, but when he invited me to this feast, it was clear he had held my well-being in regard. I however, had drunk too much wine. In conversation, I…." It was clear her teeth gritted, "I _embraced_ the Prince. He embraced me back…and then…" She shook her head, her hand over her eyes, "Forgive me, but I attacked the Prince. He was attempting to calm me down, but I was…mad beyond the point of reason. All the memories that came back-of the otulaws…it turned my mind white. I even held a knife to his throat…"

"Dear God." Richard thought all women were alike. With minds not as strong as men, and much more prone to fits of madness. Such as this one. He could not help but note that, by the words of this woman, his brother was not treasonous as those lords had suggested.

He was somehwat inclined to believe that he had tried more than just 'embracing' the lady. He knew John that much. That was hardly reason to try killing him. It was a surprise---

"Yes." She drew herself up somewhat, but there was still a trembling air about her, "I should have been punished more severely. Your brother, however, was merciful. Very merciful. He banned me, blaming the entire incident on my traumatic, past experiences."

"That was the right thing to do." Richard was even more surprised that John had shown such reasoning than that this woman was still among the living, "Lady Elizabeth, I will consider what you said, and I will speak with your husband. Once I see the proof, I shall believe that Robin of Locksley…of all people…has betrayed me."

The lady curtsied, "Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall inform him of your demand. Your Majesty…" Her eyes met his, and he saw despair in them for the first time, "Your Majesty, in all honesty, do you think I am a liar or a madwoman?"

In all honesty, Richard shook his head no.

"I would not spare a moment of my time on a liar, and I would not indulge a madwoman."

Not when his kingdom was falling to pieces around him-and not when he would probably be forced to arrest someone he had nearly considered a friend.

At the very least-if what she was saying was true, he would not have to bother with John's supposed treason. The lords _had _no proof at all. And if Robin was against him, and John had sent his forces against Robin-that was proof enough for Richard.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. With Your Majesty's permission…"

"Certainly."

This had proved a challenging audience. If nothing, it had been very useful.

* * *

"You are an actress, my dear lady!" Prince John hissed an exclamation, "Oh, yes, that was a masterful performance."

Elizabeth had not been surprised to find him in her carrige-there was no other place where they could have spoken without becoming suspicious. He must have waited for her, but he could not have been in here for too long if he had witnessed her talk with Richard.

"How do you know, sire? Have you heard it?"

"Of course I did!" John rolled his eyes, but then smiled widely, "There are various passageways in the castle Richard does not know of." Ah, she should have supposed as much. He must have wanted to make certain she did as he had instruced her to.

"Thank you for the compliments then, sire." She grinned contently, leaning against the carriage pillows, "May I inquire about your favorite part?" All was going as planned. If it went on half as well, she would be a widow by the time her second child, this time truly by Vaisey, was born. Periodically, she was getting rid of the bitter taste thinking of that part brought into her mouth. _It has to be done. And why would I feel anything? _She had been repeating this for the past month.

"Hmm…." John folded his arms, "Ah! I think it was the one in which you descrbied my caring, mercy-oh, and the part about me having it as my primary objective to eliminate those conspiring against him! That, Elizabeth, was casually thrown in, but he had to have heard, he had to!" He produced a displeased frown, "Not even Richard is _that _stupid not to have."

Elizabeth shrugged, with a smirk still on, "Who knows."

John laughed, twitching his head towards her and suddenly drawing her nearer, kissing her on the lips loudly.

Elizabeth did not like the sensation still. Especially since she had not had the time to pretend it was Guy most thoroughly. She did wish she could have hurried the enitre matter some more. Matilda, thankfully, was there to prevent her from doing so. Kissing the Prince back was her only possible course of action one way or another. And pretending to enjoy it, of course.

"There." John drew away, "We have not, unfortunately, much time. I shall make certain you are, as of next month, no longer banished from London." He raised his head dramatically, "I shall have another fit of incredible mercy and unbelievable charity."

Elizabeth took her turn to chuckle, nodding her head, "I am most grateful, sire. For that and for having Vaisey let me see my son some more." She had to remind him of this part of the bargain, in case he forgot.

"Yes." He flicked his hand imperiously, bored now, "Certainly. Soon, you won't have to worry about that man. As soon as he is no longer useful."

"For that, I thank you, too." This, she meant.

John's eyes bore into hers. There was mischief over all of his features. She equalled it, and this time she was the one to kiss him first, leaving him much more pleased. When she did it again, and again, she stopped, waiting for him to leave promptly as he was supposed to.

Unfortunately, he had changed his mind.

"My lady…" He wheezed, grabbing her and pulling her even closer. Now, lust had replaced the mischief, and she cursed herself for going too far, "My lady, I'm certain we won't get caught if I stay for just a little bit longer…"

Elizabeth could not have said no.


	19. Will Belong To Me

**Chapter Nineteen**

Nobody was surprised when the daughter of Sheriff Vaisey and his wife, Lady Elizabeth, born in London fifteen months after her brother John Henry, was named Davina Joanna, to honor Prince John.

Lady Elizabeth had a lot to be thankful to Prince John about, for one. The entire city new of her terrible conduct towards him, and when he mercifully forgave it and urged his brother Richard to put an end to her ban from London he had exceeded all expectations.

In reality, of course, Prince John had to be just as thankful-and he was-to Lady Elizabeth, for she had given him the love of the people and her own love. The entire court gossiped about her, just as they had about Lady Isabella before her. The matter was more scandalous because Elizabeth had a husband she did not bother to hide, and he did not seem to be minding any of this.

On the contrary-Vaisey was more than pleased.

"I agree that you should stay in London, my dear. Until the outlaw troubles are settled, the children should not spend too much time at Nottingham; oh, no. In fact, I will leave Gisborne here with you. For some time, at least. So you would _feel _safer."

Elizabeth had been compelled to say, since they were in front of the Prince, that the mere knowledge of being in His Highness' presence made her feel safe, but on the inside she had not felt as happy in weeks. Vaisey was, no doubt, leaving Guy behind to keep him informed together with Matilda-and this meant he did trust him not to sleep with her. _What misplaced trust. _They would have to mind Prince John, and Matilda took no time in informing them they did not know of all the secrets of this castle the way they knew Nottingham. They would be careful, though. They were used to it.

It was still very warming to think they would be able to drop it all one day.

Richard had completely bought the tale Elizabeth had offered him. They had not managed to catch Hood, however. Richard had gone to Nottingham-what had happened there had not been disclosed, but must have been positive, because Richard had went on trusting John, lending him the use of Great Hall for his own parties and never being warier about him than normal. John and Vaisey had told her Richard had gone into the forest, and spoken with Hood. That would have been the perfect opportunity to dispose of him-and it would have been necessary, had he trusted Hood-but Richard had not informed anyone and had gone to the forest secretly. Upon his return, he said that Hood was to remain an outlaw; and a traitor.

A week and a half had passed since the birth of Davina-who was brought to her mother on a more regular basis than her brother had been at her age-when a commotion at the door to her chambers in London woke Elizabeth from a sleep.

She'd drifted off into this slumber in Guy's arms, so her first instinct was to look around for him. He was not in-he must have gone out, to stand guard before her door, for they always watched that he did not spend inappropriate amounts of time in her room. That would have been too bland, even for fools.

It did not take long for her to, however, recognize that one of the raised voices she was hearing belonged to him.

Not quite able to make out what they were saying, she got to her feet, wrapping her nightgown about her quickly. She felt chilliness-thought that might have been due to the slight fever she had caught just yesterday. Prince John had sent physicians, of course-who had ascertained it was not connected to chuldbirth and it was not dangerous. He had not come himself, naturally. To risk catching whatever she had was too dangerous for him. Elizabeth did gather he would not tire of her in the few days it took for her to be cured fully.

Crossing the treshold of her bedroom and entering the parlor, she cast a quick look at the door to the room in which they held Davina. The baby was quiet, for now. She did hope it was not woken-unlike John Henry, his sister was very loud. As for her son, he was a sturdy one-year-old that did not laugh a lot and enjoyed holding a small, wooden sword. He was in a room opposite of Davina's.

By now, she was able to make out the words being spoken outside in the hallway as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Maybe Guy was just arguing with a guard, but she could use whatever it was as an excuse to call him in some more. Even when feverish, that was not to be missed.

"---the lady Vaisey is ill and_ cannot_ be disturbed. You shall be given lodgings and you shall be informed once she is better. If you make another attempt at entering the door…I'll be forced to stop you."

Guy was concerned with her condition, she thought as she walked. Despite what the physicans had all said, he still thought it was possible for the fever to be associated with birth. He had, unlike Prince John, spent every moment he could have with her. If people knew how tender he could be with someone he cared about, the would have certainly seen him as less heartless. Oh, Guy was anything but heartless-not that he wanted for anyone to know of that. That was all right, though. She knew.

"_Jako pristojno._"

And she knew that voice.

Shocked and astounded, she hurried forward, opening the doors and being faced with the sight she had expected-Guy towering over the small, but determined figure of her mother.

Both of their heads snapped towards her, while she stared incredulously at them. Now, in her terms, she was ready to defend any offence against her family with her dying breath. Guy had just told her mother he would physically stop her from entering her rooms, and had raised his voice quite above disrespectful. However, he had done so because of the same concern that lingered in his eyes still, as they met hers. Elizabeth could not have helped it-she found it endearing.

Besides, he did not know. So, straightening her back, she glared at him.

"Guy! That is _my_ _mother_." Curses-she had forgotten the _Sir._ Never mind that-her mother would most likely not notice with all the things going on, and even if she did, it would bring no harm. Her mother would find out of all, anyway.

But what was she doing here?

Elizabeth rushed forward, smiling and embracing Lady Maria, "_Mama_!" The latter was a buxom woman, significantly shorter than Elizabeth. They did share some resemblance, though Elizabeth had darker features. Their nose was the same-something the daughter had always complained about as a young girl.

"_Što radiš ovdje?_" She exclaimed, after exchanging kisses on the cheek, looking into Maria's glistening, content green eyes, "_Zašto mi nisi pisala da dolaziš?"_

"_Ma nisam ni sama bila sigurna sve do zadnjeg trenutka. Tvoj otac nije bio siguran hoće li ići samnom, ali na kraju je imao posla." _The look on her mother's face did not betray anything, but Elizabeth knew nothing positive had detained Lord Anton.

"Your ladyship." Guy sounded from the behind, and Elizabeth turned her head to see him. She felt a slight pain, but did not wince. Guy was approaching Lady Maria, inclining his head, "I apologize for my words. Had you informed me of being Lady Elizabeth's mother—"

"It is all right." Maria's English was not fully fluent, but she had apparently improved it some since Elizabeth had last spoken to her, "Think nothing of it. You could be politer, but…" She shrugged her shoulders, a pleasant expression on her face. Elizabeth's eyes darted from her lover to her mother, already able to tell that they would not have gotten along brilliantly by the dark look in Guy's eyes, and the hidden one she knew was within Maria. It made her giggle.

"Sir Guy will treat you with respect, I assure you." She said, glancing at Guy's wary gaze, then pulling her mother's hand, "Do come in, mother." She remembered another thing to brighten up both of their moods, "You must see your grandchildren."

"_Da!_" Her estimation had been correct, "Of course. I have to see them both." She stopped, "If they are asleep, leave them be, do not wake them on my account."

Elizabeth waved her hand, "Nonesense." Maria had always been considerate-sometimes too considerate, "They won't wake up-and if they do, the nursemaids can put them back to sleep. No work for us!" She laughed, to hear a predicted, reproaching huff from her mother.

"You are still lazy!" Lady Maria shook her head, "The poor children."

Guy had already closed the door behind them, and Elizabeth led her mother into the room of John Henry, first.

"He'll make less noise if woken." She explained, entering the room to see her son already sitting in his crib, holding on to his toy sword.

"Oh, look at him!" Maria was by his side in moments, letting herself be examined by his curious eyes, "He has eyes like you do. Hello, John Henry. You are so _sweet_."

"Your Grandmother, John." Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips, satisfied. Showing off her children was something she did enjoy very much. Her mother being proud of her own grandchildren mattered to her.

John's face was slowly beginning to receive some of Guy's features, too. Elizabeth was unsure if she was the only to notice it. Matilda had, too, but she claimed hers was a stained opinion, because she knew what to expect. If Maria did not notice his nose, his cheekbones, his chin-then all was well.

"He looks incredibly like your fathe---_oh_!"

She did not finish the sentence because John let out a long shriek and hit her with his sword over her palm, "Mamma, look!" He shouted proudly, holding it up.

"John!" Elizabeth scolded, but chuckled none the less, nearing him and picking him up, "You cannot hit your Grandmother." A conspiratory twinkle entered her eyes, "You can only do _that_ to Sir Guy."

Vaisey had been the one to introduce the idea of John practicing his 'skills' on Guy, when they had all happened to be in the same room once and John had tried hitting Vaisey. Elizabeth was immensely glad of it, and she guessed Guy was, too, though he brooded over it endlessly.

"Elizabeth! Don't teach him that."

"What?" Elizabeth spun around in surprise, though she knew what her mother was aiming at already, "He is male. He will have to fight with real ones one day—"

"I meant violence, in general. Skills are one thing, violence and aggression another."

"Ah!" Elizabeth sighed, turning her attention to John, "Don't preach, please, mother. My John will be a fearsome warrior one day…right, John?"

In response, John waved his sword around, but did not let it touch her. Laughing, Elizabeth could have felt her mother's disapproval. Lady Maria had always been of strong principles. She did not belive in wars, she held true to morality and ethics, and she despised violence or cruelty. She understood those were sometimes necessary, but believed in avoiding them as much as possible.

Placing John back into his crib, and patting his head tenderly, she turned back to her mother, and was hit by a sudden question: what would she say once she was told of what Elizabeth was actually doing?

No. Maria could not be told.

Oh, Elizabeth trusted her, trusted her nearly fully. But she also knew her, and Lady Maria would have, despite all the love she felt for Elizabeth, been all the more disappointed by such behavior. Her mother had wanted for her children to be honorable, just, and all the traditional adjectives that went along with 'good'. _She _would not have understood Elizabeth's marriage to Vaisey and her tolerance of all his cruelties-over others more than over herself. _She _would have had to have been coerced by Vaisey dangerously before ever agreeing to let an innocent man hang, and she would have sooner died herself than arrested an innocent peasant which had been dubbed as Nightwatchman just so she would be spared a beating. _She _would not consider it a compliment if someone killed for her-she would hate him for it. _She _would not understand how someone could kill a man based on mere suspicions-Barneby-and she could never, ever condone or comprehend the fact Elizabeth was ready to destroy millions of others for one Guy of Gisborne.

And disposing of her husband, sleeping with Prince John-ah, but Maria was bound to find out at least about that, if not from her then from others. Prince John was not subtle. _Maybe I wil tell her myself-as soon as she begins to doubt._

"Come-Davina is in the other room. Davina Joanna." She flicked her wrist, and her mother followed, switching back to Croatian along the way.

"_Are you really ill, or is that just your guard's excuse to be arrogant?_"

"Hah!" Elizabeth threw her head back, amused, "_Arrogant? Sir Guy? That is just _one_ of his many qualities. No, I really have a minor fever, but it is nothing to be worried about."_

Maria snorted, "_I would dispose of such a guard quickly-or reprimand him most seriously."_

Yes, Elizabeth thought, reprimand him for being too worried over my health to let an unknown woman into my chambers. She felt ire creeping into her.

"_Sir Guy saved my life, mother." _She stated proudly, "_Prince John would have executed me if it had not been for him."_

"_What?"_

Maria halted dead in her tracks, and Elizabeth was satisfied-it was the kind of effect she had aimed for. Part of her felt guilty for the shock of her mother, but most of her was content with the fact she would pay for berating Guy. Just as Guy would have for berating her.

And she also did feel proud for being able to say she had been through a near execution. It did make her appear as experienced, savvy, sturdy and shrewd for surviving it and being in obvious favor, again.

Despite all of it, her mother would be outraged, but most things that outraged Maria elated Elizabeth.

"_I attacked Prince John when he attempted to…take liberties with me." _A glint was in her eyes. Yes, this would enrage Maria.

The latter gasped, "_And he tried to execute _you?"

"_He is the Prince."_ Her mother would see at least this, "_His word is law, not mine. Sir Guy, however, told him that I had undergone…"_ She swung her hair theatrically, "_…sever pyschological trauma and that my mind had gone blank…so I was just banned from London."_

"_And how do you happen to be here now?" _The tone had turned colder. Elizabeth bit on her lip, regretting where her words had taken her briefly. Maria was reminded of the rape. And if her mother _dared _to begin pitying her…!

"_Prince John has forgiven me." _She turned back round quickly, opening the doors to Davina's room, "_Come, now. No use—"_

"_Why did he forgive you?"_

Thank God, there was no pity. Smiling to herself, Elizabeth shrugged, not bothering to spin to meet Maria's eye, "_He was pleased with my husband's services. And we did name the son after him and his father as an apology."_

"_And the daughter." _The older woman followed inside, catching up with Elizabeth at the crib, "_Davina is also a beautiful name." _She placed a hand gently over the little girl's head, which had bits of blonde hair on, "_The little angel."_

Elizabeth felt remorse for her desire to irritate her mother before. For a moment, watching her with her Grandchild, she was overwhelmed with memories of her own childhood. And she saw how much she had missed Maria. Her father, and her brother, too. Had she not been as practiced at holding tears in, she dared think her eyes would not have just watered, but there would have been a genuine stream. What had come had been easily shooed away by a mere blink. Or two.

She beamed at her daughter, "_Davina was Vaisey's sister. She was killed by Robin Hood."_

Maria looked up, her teeth gritted firmly, and clear anger in her eyes, "_Hood. He rapes-he kills. Does he hold a grudge against your new family?"_

Not wishing to speak of that matter, she wiggled her brow, grimacing teasingly, "_I would not know._ _Vaisey never speaks of Davina, though. I think she was close to him. Guy—" _She cut herself short. She was forgetting herself, due to the fact this was her mother, before which she had never before had any larger secrets, and due to the fact she was eager for a change of topic. Biting on her tongue, she realized that the longer the pause, the larger the suspicion would be, and went on hurriedly, "_Sir Guy said that my husband was devastated when she died."_

Maria's demeanour did not change, and she merely nodded her head, but Elizabeth had a weird feeling she had stirred some doubt.

* * *

Demonstrating to her mother all the privileges and all the luxuries she enjoyed was a fine task. The day after Maria's arrival, the fever had gone away, and as soon as he had heard of it, Prince John proclaimed a feast would be cast in honor of that-he was very eager to throw feasts, Elizabeth explained-and in the honor of the arrival of 'her ladyship's mother'. Precisely three hours after that message came, three valets arrived-only that one of them appeared not to have been a valet, at all. Instead, it was a French tailor named Leonard, who had brought her two new dresses, red and emerald-her entire wardrobe consisted of those colors. With them had arrived a gold beaded belt, which had had Maria raising brows, but saying nothing.

They were accompanied to the Great Hall by Guy. The guard announced them as 'Lady Vaisey and her entourage', and they moved over towards the head of the table. Elizabeth had worn the red dress and the belt Prince John had had Leonard present her with, and her hair was in a tall, cruly bun with two strands hanging deliberately over her face. Her corset had to be tighter than usual, since pregnancy had not helped her waist nor her breasts. Luckily, Davina had a nursemaid-Elizabeth's vanity would not have liked her breasts sagging any more.

"Elizabeth!" Prince John pushed lazily away from the chair. Elizabeth could have felt the silent contemplation over such familiarity from Maria, as he took her hand and kissed it, "How are you? I do hope you are completely healthy?" The ginger way in which he held her hand said it had little to do with concern of her.

She smiled, and chortled, nodding, "Yes, my Prince, I am. Do you fear I could be contagious?"

John's giggle was controlled, and his grin plastered, "No. But it would be inconvenient, to become ill and rid everyone of my company."

"True-you would not, Your Highness, expect me to come see you and risk contagion, myself." She replied coyly as he led her to her seat, pulling her down and sitting himself but not letting go of her hand, "You are young, though-you would not be at the risk of death. At least we can be certain of that."

"Yes…" John seemed ponderous, "Yes. Old men die of simple illnesses." He was remined of Vaisey, she hoped, though it was possible he was not. She had not gotten much better at hinting in not too obvious a manner.

Her eyes trailed to her mother and Guy, who had not been seated yet. Dancing with her fingers on John's hand to bring him out of his trance, she motioned her head at them.

"My prince, we should let my mother and Sir Guy sit down-and I should introduce my mother to you."

The Prince nodded slowly, turning his head suddenly towards Maria. A smaller smile was there, "Oh, do."

"This is my mother, Lady Maria Horvat." Elizabeth's eyes glinted proudly. She was feeling content to introduce her mother to a person of importance, so she raised her had a tad, grinning, "Mother, this is His Highness, John, Prince of the realm."

"Your Highness." Maria curtsied, Elizabeth noticed, not deeply-just like--

"You curtsy like your daughter, my lady." John cocked his head, eying Maria intently, "Yes…and you do have something simillar in the features." His eyes trailed over to Elizabeth, "I would dare say your mother was a beauty when younger, Elizabeth. Should I go as far as to say fairer than you?" He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Elizabeth's mocking grimace and reply was quick, "No, you should not." She made a deliberately fake smile, "Your Highness."

John liked her behavior, and he clapped one hand over another, motioning at Guy and Maria to sit. Maria got the seat opposite of Elizabeth's honorary one, next to Prince John himself. Guy sat next to her-as much as she could have felt Maria's disapproval as she thanked the Prince, she could have felt Guy's anger and ire at the very concept of John and Elizabeth.

She supposed it was possible he had grown to love her at least somewhat.

"I see you like the dress I sent you." John remarked, and Elizabeth knew Maria had begun connecting the dots by now. Some customs were no different in Croatia than here. Gifting mistresses, for one.

She knew her mother was not going to bring anything inapt up in society, so she did not concern herself too much with it. Instead, she took hold of her wine goblet, raising it before sipping, "I most certainly do. I would not object to some more, either!"

"Elizabeth…" Maria sounded wearily, but John extended a hand to stop her from saying anything else.

"No! No need, my lady." He took hold of Elizabeth's fingers again, kissing them, his shining eyes on hers. She had amused him, "Is she not brilliant?"

"Of course I am."

"_Elizabeth._"

A slight sigh came from Guy, meant for all the events combined. Elizabeth cast a warning look at Maria, who was looking at her with something quite close to disgust. _Distaste. _Yes, she had clearly connected the dots. And disliked her behavior, even ignoring that part.

John was most displeased at it.

"My lady," He turned to Lady Maria, one eyebrow almiost comically above his eye, "I find your daughter quite pleasing. If I dislike her behavior, I would tell her so myself-and an adult, married woman does not need the reprimands of a mother."

"I'm certain my mother means well." Elizabeth heard herself say this before even thinking of it. Impulsive, her family pride was. Maria could have spoken for herself, though, and she did.

"Your Highness." She said politely, "I apolgoize, but I have taught my daughter differently…" Her eyes darted knowingly to Elizabeth's, "And I have to say it does disappoint me to see her acting against all I have ever tried to imprint upon her."

This did not mean her bad manners. This meant more. She had finally finished connecting the dots, and she finally saw the whole picture-that was what it meant, obviously. Elizabeth felt piqued by the obvious judgement her mother had developed-piqued just as hurt. Had she not just challenged the opinion of Prince John for her? Had she not risked his ire? Had she not introduced her to him, had she not made certain she had the seats of highest honor and the deepset of respect, had she not made certain her chambers were among the best? Did it all account to nothing, just because she had slept with Prince John for it?

The conversation advanced after this, on to more fitting topics. There were a few toasts John dedicated to Elizabeth, a few she had to dedicate to him. There was dancing-Elizabeth had not been allowed to entertain any other lord. Not that she had particularly wanted to. Guy had sat on his seat for the entire evening's time, not bothering to get up or to even eat too much. Maria had gracefully declined every dance, too. She had been scandalized when she had overheard John and Elizabeth discussing a lady's bosom together, and she had requested to be allowed to withdraw. Once her request was granted, she went to her chambers. Undoubtedly to lament over what a failure her daughter was-despite all.

It was not until the wee hours of the night that the Prince and Elizabeth withdrew to _his _chambers, where she was utterly at his disposal. She'd managed to catch Guy's glance, dismayed, blue and _sad_, actually-but also resigned. While Prince John made love to her, Elizabeth thought of nearly nothing save for that look. The look which, once again, told her it was possible he_ loved_ her genuinely.

* * *

"She should be able to understand, if _you_ understand." Elizabeth shook her head, pacing around the room, "I mean, perhaps she _would _understand better if she knew the whole truth, but how can I tell her the whole truth when she would not even _speak to me?_ I tried to persuade her to, but it ended up with her slapping me!"

Guy sighed, his fingers at the bridge of his nose, "I don't know." He looked up, for he was sititng on her bed, "We have to be careful. Do you think she would tell anyone if she knew?"

"No!" Elizabeth spun around, spreading her arms desperately, "_No_! She is my mother…as much as she currently hates that fact." She averted her eyes, the realization of the truth of the last statement breaking through to her. This time, a blink did not have all the tears go away-instead, it took a large intake of breath and a twitch of her head. She dug her nails deep into her hand, focusing on that pain. She was becoming weak-not even the consequences of childbirth could be allowed to have her become whimpery. _Never._

Guy rose from the bed, reaching her in two steps and embracing her lightly.

"She shouldn't be despising you, Elizabeth. You do what you have to do."

Elizabeth shifted her head on his chest, "No. I do what I want to do, in order to get what I want."

"That amounts to the same."

"If I tell my mother that, she will say that I can always choose another way, that there always is another way, and it will all be just a waste—"

"Shh." Guy silenced her swiftly, entangling his hand within her hair. Elizabeth felt the comfort his hugs always brought to her sinking in about that time. The matter of her mother not wanting to communicate with her was partially pushed into the back of her mind. 'Partially' meant that she was still conemplating over how admission of all they had done and intended on doing was out of question. It would have only made matters worse-if she was as this over adultery, what would murder have done? Murders? Even if for love-would that even be a justification to Maria?

No, to people like Lady Maria, love was not justification to all-she was not that romantic. She believed in honesty, integrity, justice. Elizabeth could not have told Maria she was with John just to dispose of Vaisey and eventually marry Guy. Being with John because she loved him would have barely made for not being ignored any longer.

"She cannot know." She mumbled absently, just as Guy placed a kiss on the top of her head, "She would hate me all the more. Not because of loving you, but because of doing all I'll do…being selfish."

"Selfishness is necessary. One cannot want success and think of everyone else in the process. They never get there, if they do."

Elizabeth shrugged, knowing he was telling the truth since he was telling her own opinion as well, and they were silent like that for a few moments. After the silence, she let out a long breath, pulling away from him and grimacing slightly.

"I should be getting dressed. At breakfast, I have to tell Prince John Vaisey has been sending me the letters in which…well, you know." She waved her hand, heading over to the armoire, "Matilda should arrive soon, she will…add the final touches."

They had had the letters forged in case John asked to see them. Matilda would do the last check-up, in case something had been omitted or in case something had been copied wrong. Elizabeth did not know what exactly had happened to the forger, but she believed he was not among the living anymore. Guy had taken care of that. No one who had had such knowledge could have been left alive to spread it further. _Another thing mother would never understand. _It certainly would not have been good for them if the Sheriff was to find out they had been creating letters in which he complained about her relationship with Prince John-the relationship he revered, due to all it brought him. And because he knew what_ objections _would have brought him.

_He knows. Unfrotunately for him, so do we._

She pulled out a random dress, eyed it quickly and dropped it onto the bed. When she finally accomplished all of her goals, she would focus on such things-at the moment, she knew everything she owned was suitable and wore what she first saw. Special occasions excluded.

A swift knock on the door had both her and Guy flicnhing. They had agreed with Matilda that she would knock four times exactly, so they would know it was her. This time, whoever it was had produced three sounds, and it was not like Matilda to forget. Looking at Guy with some alarm, she motioned towards the heavy curtains. He nodded briefly, and hurried over there, as she chimed as neutrally as she could have;

"Who is it?"

"Marissa, my lady." Elizabeth allowed herself a silent sigh of relief, gathering her nightgown in her hands and walking over to open the door. The paranoid part wanted to make certain the nursemaid of John was alone before letting her in.

The sight of oakwood was replaced by the round face of Marissa, who _was_ alone. Elizabeth raised a questioning eyebrow, and was about to ask what was wrong, but Marissa spoke barely after leaving a nervous curtsy.

"My lady, forgive the intrusion, but his young lordship John's unwell."

"Unwell?" Elizabeth instantly recalled her own fever. It had not been contageous, had it? Guy had not gotten anything, and he had spent all that time with her-then again, Guy was a man and John was a baby. Resisting to cast a glance at the curtains, Elizabeth increased her grip on the doorknob, "Fever?"

Marissa nodded, "Yes, milady." She was looking down demurely, with what Elizabeth chose to interpret as fear she would be blamed for it rather than concern for John. Concern was not necessary-he would be fine, she reassured herself. Marissa was not all that young-she had recently given birth, true, but her red hair was beginning to gray some-she was a woman of experience. And there was also Matilda. And the Prince would send all the care necessary.

"Have you called for a physician?"

She kept the nervousness out of her voice, focusing on what needed to be said. She also put in effort not to bite on her lip.

"Of course, my lady." Marissa curtsied quickly once more, "Immediately. Afterwards, I came here to inform your ladyship. Also…" She hesitated, shifting on her feet, "Also, his young lordship has been calling for his father."

Elizabeth felt the urge to chuckle sarcastically, as every time when Vaisey was alleiged as John's father, and she repressed it swiftly-just as every other time. John's father was in the room, behind blood red curtains. John would not know that for a very long time-or short, dependant on Prince John, and on her.

"I will tend to John as soon as I am dressed." Being late for breakfast would be avoided if she hurried. The Prince would not like her to tarry because of her child. It would have him thinking she was not fit to be his mistress, since she would not be available on the account of someone else. She had learned she had the right to be as sassy as she wished-within limits of never being against his authority and never touching certain topics-if she showed she did it just for him.

She began closing the door, but Marissa cleared her throat hurriedly, nearly squealing; "My lady..!"

"Yes?" Elizabeth hoped she had not omitted a detail about how worse the condition of her son was. _Of coruse not-he is strong. _

"I…" The nursemaid played with her skirts, more like a nervous young girl than a mature woman. Had she been the right choice to provide care for John?, "I have learned from experience that…"

"That children do not survive?" She pointed out the worst sharply right away. She did not expect Marissa would reply positively, but it certainly quickened the pace of her words.

"No, no!" She shook her head, eyes wide, "No, milady, his lordship will certainly survive, there was never doubt conerning that! I'd only meant to say…I've learned it aids them greatly to have what they desire…perahps if…if…your lord husband…"

Elizabeth saw where this was headed. And it was a direction she, after a few seconds of being stunned, realized she did not like. Having Vaisey spend more time with John was the last thing on her list. That would have meant further attachment to him, and Vaisey was going to die soon, anyway. Plus, he was not the boy's actual father. Elizabeth did not want John caring for Vaisey even more-this reminded her, just as the fact the baby had called for him, that he was very inclined towards adoring him.

"The Sheriff cannot be bothered to come visit every time John is slightly ill." She snapped, "He will have to manage without him."

Marissa murmured something and made a scared escape, and a few moments after her departure, Guy left, too. Elizabeth prepared for breakfast with great care, and checked the letters together with Matilda. More and more was being added to her list of problems. She hated the part of herself that felt heaviness due to the fact she would be ridding John of someone he was beginning to develop an attachment to. She denied that part, and never gave the denial up.

She was merely feeling the heaviness because John was ill-and that was not supposed to worry her, either. Babies forgot, and he would forget Vaisey-but even if he did not, it would not have concerned her. _Honestly…it would not._

By the time she was leaving her rooms, she realized she had not even gone to see her son-she had been to busy with the rest of the turmoil in her mind. Elizabeth told herself to get a grip. She forced all her concerns to leave her mind, and concentrated on the speech she prepared for Prince John. _I'll be a loving mother later. Soon._

* * *

"The dear Sheriff has gotten ahead of himself." Prince John grimaced, shaking his head and dropping his goblet, having an unfortunate page catching it expertly, "He surely cannot expect to rid me of your company as soon."

"Indeed." Elizabeth smiled, whipsering on-they were discussing the matter at the table, quite intimately close. It had had an interlude of John wanting to get a better look at her 'lovely necklace', or, rather, her chest. Then, ignoring the looks from Lady Maria, she let the whole affair slip, "Not that he can be blamed for wishing for my company…but I would prefer to stay with you."

The frown was on John's face-the one that was always there when he was deep in thought. Elizabeth hoped his thoughts were headed in the direction she had laid out for him. It was logical for him to want to dispose of someone who wanted to take away his toy. And currently, it did not seem to her as if Vaisey was being terribly useful to him.

She looked briefly at Guy, unable to resist, to catch him looking her way, too. If all worked well-this would be it. The first step that would initiate an avalanche of events. An avalanche that would crush those in their way and leave them near the top.

But the Prince said nothing-he just remained in his position, his hand underneath his chin, he eyes on the window.

Feeling compelled to say something, and annoyed John was not doing that, Elizabeth drank some water, shrugging her shoulders, "Well, you should not concern youself, Sire. I think he hardly cares for me-he is more likely to care for the children, and take me in package with them." Their letters had said this-to anyone who knew Vaisey, it would have been obvious he did not want his wife to spend more happily married time with him, "Not that I care much whether he lives or dies, either!"

The eyes of Prince John met with hers suddenly as he grabbed her chin, and spun it towards him. Sooner than she could have reacted, he silenced her with a finger across her lips. Someone cleared their throat, and someone gasped-all very silently, or so it seemed.

Elizabeth took this as a good sign. He must have brought the decision, and he would remind her of their deal in moments; he'd 'ask her if she'd mind it', but even if she did, he would do it.

"My lovely lady-you _are _a genius."

She was? She smirked quickly, "I know, sire." But it was a very mechanical reaction. Oh, she did think she was a genius for arranging the entire complex of schemes, for having him do her bidding and kill her husband, and have her marry the man she loved. She only hoped that had been his reason for saying so.

"Of course you do." John cocked his head, and for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, and she thought she saw eerie mistrust in his gaze. Then, he blinked and it was gone-or she blinked, she was not sure. She _was _sure of the triumphant feeling that formed deep within her, when he went on, even more silent than before, "I will get rid of him. Your genius…and other assets…" He looked suggestively at her decolletage, "Will belong to me."


	20. Poisoned

**Chapter Twenty**

"You see my loyalty now, sire. I never lied to you. Or, at the very least, _her_ lie was greater."

Prince John sat on the largest armchair he could have found that was not the throne-and one he had barely had brought into his room-looking intently and woundedly at Isabella Thornton.

"Second betrayal." He warned, "Second. Oh, and all the_ things_ I gave her!"

"And what benevolence you showed."

He proceeded to shake his head, squinting, "And for_ him_, of all people!" Now, the wouned look switched to anger, "What does your brother have, Isabella, that I do not?"

"A lack of wits, I would say." Isabella had no love for Guy. He may have been her brother a long time ago, but since the moment she found out he had given her to Thornton-a beast-for money, and nothing else, he had ceased being that. Now, he was someone to execute revenge upon, and she was very certain she had gotten quite close to managing that.

It had taken her grave effort. Escaping from Thornton again had not been easy, and it had been a risky endeavour-the Prince could have easily decided to return her. When she had left the Squire, she had not yet had plans of revenge, just of survival-she could not have taken another beating and another rape. Or she could have, but would have chosen to walk through hell rather than doing it. Begging Prince John for forgiveness and begging him to keep her away from her husband _was_ hell, with the constant knowledge of how brutally punished she would be if he refused.

What luck it had been that she had, moments after her arrival, hiding in the barn like a thief due to the sound of horse hooves in the night, seen none other than Guy, kissing none other than the woman who had taken her place in Prince John's bed-Lady Elizabeth Vaisey. The wife of his superior. And the mistress of the superior's superior.

Two, for the price of nothing. With that kind of information, she could have freed Prince John from Elizabeth, and she could have had Guy lose everything. Making certain she was provided for, and having her vengeance.

She had remained hidden some more-she had bribed serving maids, selling her hairpins and her shawl to be able to afford it. She did not eat for a couple of days, but it returned to her in the form of information. Little, but enough-she had found out enough details to weave a story, that was negative and that could have had the two secret lovers losing a lot. Sheriff Vaisey was no fool-he knew better than to complain on the status between him and his wife. 'Adding the final touches', as Marissa, the nursemaid, had told her-it had to have had to do with their plan. Their plan to dispose of Vaisey, in order to be together. The last part was a guess, but mere disposal of Vaisey would not have affected Prince John too much.

At least he had given her a clean outfit when she had snuck to him with these news, and when she had told him to pay attention to Guy and Lady Elizabeth. She had feared he would not see it, but he had. And now, she could have hoped for many more outfits-but she could not relax just yet.

What she truly wanted of Prince John was not so different from what Lady Elizabeth wanted. Isabella wanted to be rid of her husband, too. She did not mind being the mistress, having more power that way than she could have had as wife to a nobleman, but she would have given it up for the disappearance of Thornton from the face of this Earth. With no Thornton to be given back to, Isabella would not have even feared being cast off by the Prince. Tried to avoid it, yes, feared it-no.

"If you imprisoned both of them, sire, everyone would give you full right."

John played with his moustache, pouting and still not looking away-Isabella remembered she was the one supposed to do that, and she did.

"No." He finally said, making her freeze, "No."

What did he mean, no? He could not have been thinking of letting them get away with this. Not after all she had done to make certain the opposite happened.

"W-what will you do then, sire?" She forced the smile to remain on her lips, "Surely they cannot get away with such treason against your person." She added, trying to sound more certain. This was Prince John, who had no true mercy at all.

This was true, "No, they will _not _get away, Isabella." His upper lip curled in disgust, "They will pay. But in a different manner!" He leaned back against the seat, crossing his legs, forcing her to step back in order not to be hit, "I know their game now. And that means…I can change it, and make it much more amusing. How about…" He extended his hand, looking at his dancing fingers, "How about killing just one of them?"

Isabella let her smirk be wiped away as he jumped to his feat, circling behind her, his hands on her shoulders, "I'll let you pick, Isabella." No-one was not enough. Revenge and well-being; he could not have her choosing, she had to have both, both were necessary, "Guy…or Elizabeth. Let that be your reward."

She swallowed deeply, "Sire…I was hoping for a different kind of reward."

For getting rid of Thornton. _That cannot be taken away, too._

"Me?" Egoistically, he laughed, "Then you have to pick Elizabeth."

It was clear enough, was it not? If she wished to be rid of Thornton, she had to be John's mistress first. Then, she would be able to influence him. Then, she would be safe.

But her vengeance…

"Sire, if only one of them is dead…I…I do not think my brother is capable of genuinely loving someone—"

"And you do not think it would hurt him the way you wanted to if she died?" John giggled again, "Then you have to pick Guy."

Her jaw tightened. There was no choice-if she picked Guy, she would get the relief of revenge, but she would possibly be sent to Thornton. She had to squeeze as much as she could out of the situation. She had to be calculating, and patient. She had to think logically.

_I will have Guy's head later. For now—_

Isabella nodded her head, her curls falling over the scar on her cheek, "Elizabeth it is…sire."

* * *

Despite the fact that more than three weeks had passed, Vaisey still lived. Murders had to be taken slowly, Guy assured her, and she was fully certain the murder_ would_ occur.

"I am just being impatient." Elizabeth sighed, passing through her hair, which rested on her right shoulder, with a hairbrush, "All of this is becoming…tiresome." It would have been more accurate to say she was sick of it. Her mother had finally spoken to her, to inform her she had not changed her plans and would stay for half a year, but also to give her a long lesson on how shameful she was being. _'It will be over soon, you will see, mother. I _will_ be what you think of as decent, I promise you, but I cannot say exactly when. I only need to keep up with this a while longer.' _She wished 'a while' would become 'a very little while'. And she wished her mother had not accused her of further, filthy schemes-just because there were further schemes. _She'll be made undersand later on. _And she would never know the whole thing.

She and Guy were alone in her parlor, save for John, who was fighting a tremendous battle with one of the chairs. Matilda had stepped out for a while, into the bechamber, giving them privacy-but no one outside of Elizabeth's chambers knew of this, so all suspicion was cleared. If someone did enter-she was properly dressed, they were in a position in which they could have easily moved from each other, and they were in the company of a one-year-old, which could have easily meant to others they could not be doing anything improper.

And they weren't. They were just talking.

"I know." Guy murmured, "Tiresome, to say the least. I wish we did not have to form an entire stratagem in order to be in the same room together at the same time."

"Yes." Elizabeth wheezed dreamily, frowning and shaking her head, "It was kind of fun, you must admit." She used humor to hide emotion impulsively-she always had-and this time she was concealing the despair that caught hold of her when she thought of there ever being a possibility of them being forced to continue like this. There had to have been fun, with the constant thrill, but she had a very hard time seeing it at the moment.

Guy snorted, closing his eyes and smirking, "Yes. In the beginning."

She let go of the hairbrush, throwing her hair back, and leaning sideways in the sofa, shifting in order to shake off the sudden heaviness that threatned to befall her. The beginning seemed so far away-then, it _had _been genuinely enjoyable, all the secrecy. Did Guy really find the matter funny, or did he, like her, begin to wonder if they could have kept it so pleasant, if they had not gone as far in some matters?

Whatever was she thinking! If they had not, they never would have had a chance of being together legally, fully forever. Once they were, they would be able to laugh at all these events and retell them to their children later in future. Now…

Now, she did not feel any natural laughter coming out from her.

So, she faked one, and pursed her lips, "Oh, well. That is something." She was determined not to allow any depressed mood to come over her. Why on Earth would that happen? Soon, she would be living the life of her dreams.

"Strike!" John shouted out one of the words he had learned, pushing his toy sword into the cushion of the armchair, his enemy. Elizabeth and Guy's heads snapped towards him, to see him looking back at them victoriously, one of his small hands on a hole he had managed to make on the 'enemy'. Next to her, Elizabeth heard Guy chortle, and she was hit by a refreshed realization of this being _their _son. And she imagined herself as Lady Gisborne, saw how soon that was going to be reality—

"Have you noticed that all our conversations tend to end up the same way?"

Guy's unexpected sentence threw her out of the thoughts, and she looked back into his eyes. He was serios, not mischievous or teasing, making her brow furrow slightly.

"I did not…or I did…I don't know, I don't think about that." She shrugged, "Would you care to extrapolate some more?"

He rolled his eyes, "It's simple." It was nearly a snap, but not a solemn one, "We share an opinion, you switch to saying something you consider witty, I retort, and you resort to your concepts of wittiness again. Can't we ever change that routine?"

Guy was right, now that she gave it better thought. Everyday conversations looke as what he had described. But those were not the only ones they shared.

"There are times when we break the routine!" She protested, folding her arms, "It is only that we talk about serious matters at those times…matters we dislike bringing up, especially when in need of concentration."

"Maybe," Guy did not move, but his glare darkened, "We should bring up those matters more."

She stared at him quite dumbfoundedly. His sudden, obvious displeasure surprised her, because she had not ever seen it before. Was this the day for all the unwanted emotions? The ones they always kept hidden-save for during the kinds of moments they were just discussing.

"What do you mean?" The question was more careful than the words before. Once he told her, she would understand. They had always understood each other perfectly. Once they knew what the other was thinking; and both were good at hiding it. During the times they 'broke the routine', they mostly managed to get one past the other's defences. But they understood that, too-the need for things such as defenses.

"Elizabeth…" He drew nearer, casting a glance at the door before turning back to her. She grew both interested and concerned at the same time. And distraught by how close they were, one detail which always managed to cause that.

"Yes?" She breathed, silently.

A debate seemed to be going on in his eyes, and one side must have finally prevailed when he spoke, "I want to know…your thoughts. Your real thoughts. Not the ones served to the rest of the world."

Elizabeth frowned slightly at this, at first very unwilling to believe she was so much different from who she presented herself to be.

"I _tell you_ my real thoughts," She declared, "Or do you believe I discuss all the plans I have with anyone else?" Maybe he had actually meant that-he must have. She was not different from what people said about her. It was all pretty accurate.

"The plans are not what I'm talking about." Guy did not draw back, "I am talking about things you told me only once." He looked away shortly, giving her a short break and sending away the feeling of being cornered for that brief time, "Here, in this palace." His eyes were back, and she was more cornered than ever.

That was not an event worth mentioning. Back then, she had been somewhat different-less experienced and weaker. Weak-never, but weak_er,_ yes. She had not been able not to remember it, but she prefered focusing on shinier occurences, such as the time she began working on this plan, the way she worked Prince John, the way she had always known how to use her sharp tongue, and her silver, manipulative one. That single shame did not come out as much compared to all of it, did it?

Elizabeth closed her eyes, shaking her head with the annoyance that crawled in, "God, Guy, that was the worst, drink-induced incident ever, and I would never repeat such a thing again. I would sooner…jump off the palace!"

"That was the only time you were honest about yourself."

"Honest? I was half-mad with wine—"

"That, and that time I caught you at the stairway in Nottingham."

He remebered that.

This took her aback so much it almost took her mind enitrely off the former matter of discussion.

All had been so simple back then. She had belived she would have easily caught a perfect husband, have money, influence, wealth, fulfill her father's expectations and live enjoyably. Instead, Guy had caught her. And all had changed. Foolishness-it would have changed if he had not been there, for she would have entered the Great Hall and seen him there--

_I would not have._

Because she would have been dead, with a broken neck.

He had saved her life countless times, but that one seemed special. Different. Maybe because they had not known each other, loved or hated each other, back then. That one made her recall all the intensity of her love for him-the way it had all begun.

It also made her look at him squarely, inhaling deeply and jutting out her chin, letting go of everything.

"Why did we not simply see this would happen, and marry upon my arrival?"

Yes, she was admitting that she did not like 'this' all that much, that she would have preferred being simply Guy's wife to being the mistress of the Prince and the Lady of Nottingham. Where was the point in _not_ admitting to that, when all the grand schemes and plots of the Lady of Nottingham and Prince John's mistress had Sir Guy as the only, ultimate goal?

That did not make her puny, incompetent or weak. It merely meant Guy was someone she wanted more than anything in the world. _More than the glory and the power and the fame. _A few moments ago, she would have cursed such an opinion. Now-she did not care.

"It was not love at first sight. That doesn't even exist." Guy retorted, leaving her dumbfounded again.

Love?

She forced her pride to stand down briefly. Since they were saying it all, let it be all.

"Love? You…" She halted, because it was not easy to just let go of habits practiced for years. _'You love me?'-_ and what if he said no? It was impossible to dispose of that doubt.

Fortunately, Guy took upon himself her work, locking his eyes with hers. In there, she saw confusion. It was hard to say if he frowned, because she could not have focused on anything but his eyes. _He is going to say no._

"I thought I'd…I thought you knew of my feelings."

"Which are?" She held her breath, her heartbeat painful. Closing her eyes was out of question, but she felt very much like it. _No turning back._

Incredulously, he stared at her, and she counted the seconds by heartbeats. They had come this far-she never should have mentioned anything. A part of her claimed he had to love her, the other stated that was impossible. Then again, she knew the other was there just to minimize the disappointment that would come crashing down.

But all these thoughts were so useless and pointless now.

She fixed her eyes onto his, and waited.

"Could you have been so _blind_?" Guy reached out for her, wrapping his arms around her body and drawing her so close their lips were but an inch apart, "You are such a short-sighted fool I don't even know why it is that I love you. Why I will marry you."

It was all that she had wanted to hear.

Just as they had been kissing for a minute or two, though; and just as she thought she could never be happier, and tried to imagine how happy she'd then be once they were husband a wife, a sound inderrutped them both.

It was a choked, child's cry.

A few moments later, they found John in his sister's nursery, lying sprawled on the floor, a dish of Elizabeth's favorite chocolates next to him.

He was dead.

_Poisoned._

**Review, please. Or just build up my story traffic. :D**


	21. Charged With The Crime

**Yep, short. Next one has lots of it in for you, though. :)**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The world was blurry before Elizabeth's eyes still, even after Matilda had wrapped John Henry into a blanket and taken him away. Taken him away to another physician, taken him away to God, to the devil himself, _anyone_ who would save him. It had not taken time to make her part from her son-she was eager for him to get help as soon as possible and not be in the way.

She did not understand why Guy was looking at her so silently, strangely, solemnly, nor why his embrace was much tighter than usual-she did not understand why both he and Matilda-who returned very soon, probably having found aid for John-were speaking in hurried whispers.

She did not know how much time passed, before she finally admitted to herself she _did_ understand everything, that her son was _dead_, never to be woken again.

By that time, the only tears she could have produced were fake and they refused to flow promptly or properly.

Or at all.

For the first time in her life, Lady Elizabeth prayed to be able to cry.

But stubbornly, the one thing she had denied and repulsed for the majority of her life now repulsed and denied her, when she needed it most. A mother's grief was the worst grief-it had always so been said. Tears were supposed to come, tears had a purpose-to wash away the pain, the heavy and sharp layers of pain which had appeared so quickly. Elizabeth begged for her pain not to be meant to stay, for if it was so, she would verily go mad with it. It was too much already, at the moment. She wanted it washed away, she wanted it torn away, anything. So long as it did not remain.

Her fingernails bore deeper into Guy's leather jacket, and she tried to let out a scream, but it was muffled and came out as a dry moan. She could have felt him cradle her, and she could have said he was speaking, but could not have made out the words. This was Guy that was holding her-Guy had always managed to heal every one of her wounds. Now, he was failing to make her feel any easier.

Oh, she wanted...she wanted....

Not to cry anymore...not to die, not anything. She did not_ know_ what she wanted. Nothing was clear.

Everything was a blur.

Then, there was an abrupt movement; a jerk, which suddenly had her head thrown backwards and Guy's hands slipping from her back all the way to her palms. Elizabeth thought she was being pulled backwards-she, or Guy. But why would they be trying to take Guy away from her? He had to remain close to her-it had been his son, too. Who was it, trying to take him away?

This forced her, heavily, to blink and clear her vision somewhat. She did not know who was holding _her_, but the world slowly came back into foucs. In front of her, there was Guy, indeed-held back by two guards.

„Guy." She was clinging to him, and her throat was sore at speaking, „Guy, what is going on? Who are _they_?"

He looked intently at her, a look she could have read in any other state, any other day, but not today and not like this.

Instead of Guy, one of the men replied, with a curt half-bow.

„Milady, a witness has stepped forward to witness that it had been Sir Guy of Gisborne who had poisoned your son."

_Poisoned. _Poisoned. So John had been----she'd know that. But not by Guy, she thought as she looked back at him. Never by Guy.

„What are you saying?" She shook her head at the guard incredulously, „The witness...there can't be a witness, it did not happen!"

„Milady." What an annoying person this guard was, „We are under strict orders from above—„

„You are deluded!" Orders from above did not matter. Elizabeth shivered with sheer will. She was not the mistress of Prince John for nothing, „Talk to Prince John. He will not be in agreement with this, I _know _that!"

„Lady Elizabeth."

Guy's voice finally sounded. He was being official-of course, they were in front of people-and she did not know if the other undertone was panic, warning or a mixture of both.

He was being stupid, too, though. Why was he warning her? Yes, she would use all the influence she had with Prince John in order to save him. No vigilance or carefulness would change her mind about that. She could always pretend she was acting on the behalf of her husband, if anything---

_If only I had not made certain Prince John wanted Vaisey out of the way._

„Lady Elizabeth, I appreciate your words...and your belief in my innocence. But I have to be honest."

She nearly burst out laughing.

„Guy, have you lost _your mind_?", The first name slipped her, but she did not linger on that detail long, „You were right here with me for the entire time!" She spoke quickly, her voice nervous. Guy must have become insane. He could have at least been silent and let them arrest him, waiting for her to smooth out the details of his release with Prince John. Why would he want to be charged with this crime?

The punishment would be death, and she would have to be there to watch it. She would have to watch Guy die, and she would die herself, or go completely mad.

„No. No, never." She said, whether to herself or to anyone else, she did not know. Elizabeth would never let him do such an idiotic thing, whatever his reasons.

„I am guilty of the crime, my lady."

As he said that, curtly and correctly, his hands let go of hers where they had been holding them for all the time.

"No."

If she had thought Guy had not been making her feel any better, she had been terribly wrong. Without his touch, the worst worsened. Not because the loss of John stung more that way. This was solely because of what the loss of Guy would do. So soon, after the loss of John. The son and the father._ Her_ John and _her_ Guy.

And both of them-why? What for?

"Guy...Guy, _stop_."

He only looked at her blankly, without response.

Shaking her head, she made a step forward, only to be pulled back by(she now saw) Matilda. But no one would hold her back. No one, she would not let even Guy hold her back from stopping this…this…lunacy!

With one, strong movement she disposed of Matilda, rushing towards Guy, whom the now uncertain and confused guards had begun taking away. They had not even turned him properly yet, and she prevented that from happening by grabbing hold of his face, leaning forward.

She was ready to kiss him. She was ready to slap him. She was ready to do anything, in front of all. Anything, to have him tell the truth.

With one, firm hand on her chest, he put a stop to that.

"Elizabeth…"His eyes bore into hers, but she failed to understand anything once more, "I did it. Truly."

When she struggled further, to be closer to him, to hold him and have him hold her as he always had, when they comforted and loved each other-oh, yes, both of them-he responded by pushing her away.

"Let go."

And he began walking away together with his escort.

Elizabeth had no choice. She ran after him.

This was wrong, terribly wrong. This was Guy-Guy, who either loved her and understood her, or argued with her and mocked her. Guy was never secretive, not with her, not since he had told her of his family. Elizabeth would not let this be-she would go to Prince John and she would make certain Guy lived. She could not let him die. Not ever. Not after all the terrible fates life had cruelly brought him. Not because of her. He had to have a happy ending.

This time, however, Matilda was more determined at holding her back.

She held her back when she shouted, she held her back when she screamed that Guy could not have done it because he was John's father, she held her when the tears finally came and she cried, deep into the wee hours of the night.


	22. Crashing Down, Or Maybe Not

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Elizabeth was woken two days later by a hand covering her mouth.

She had not experienced all the events that had occurred rushing back to her-she had never had the privilege to forget them, not even in her dreams. She did not know how much time had passed, and_ that_ had panic rising within her-what if Guy had already gotten hanged for no good reason-what if that had not been just a figment of her nightmares?

The pressing need to know had her trying to spin around, and look at whoever was touching her. She blinked-her eyes were sore and undoubtedly red-trying to evade the sun that obstructed her view. It was a man, all right, that much was clear-her first thought was Guy.

Then he blocked the Sun, and the face she looked upon was the last she would have ever expected to see…again.

Her eyes widening, she breathed a muffled, "You!" Through his palm, which he, placing a finger of silence across his lips, slowly removed.

He looked much older. She knew he was, in fact, younger than Guy but at the moment, he did not look like it. There were lines of worry on his forehead, and his hair looked so thin. _He _looked thin, thin and pale.

A million of things would have been the logical ones to ask-what was he doing here, how did he get in, why was he here-but Elizabeth found only one question of importance. Even if this person most likely knew very little on that matter, she asked it impulsively. She had to.

"Did they hang Guy?"

She was completely unsurprised at the high pitch of her own voice.

Robin Hood replied with a shaking of his head.

Elizabeth exhaled with such relief that it left her feeling dizzy. Good. Good. She had to pull herself together, now. How could she have fallen asleep in the first place, at such a dire time? The event should have had her hurrying to Prince John and making certain everything was smoothed out. Guy dying was unnaceptable in whole.

Well, if she had not done it then, she was going to do it now. Determinedly, she threw away her covers and began pushing up from the bed. She was still in the same dress as yesterday, but the Prince would just have to be satisfied with it-there was no time to change.

Just as her feet touched the floor, Robin Hood stopped her with a hand grasping her shoulder.

"Where do you think you are going?"

His voice had changed, too, but that did not matter now. She cast him an annoyed look-his being here did not matter at all. She did not care if he robbed the entire castle of all they had, and he was free to rob her of her valuables, too.

_But what am I thinking? _Realization had her blinking-of course. He must have thought she was going to get the guards. That would have been the logical course of action, too. How could he have, though, thought of her doing that when there was Guy in danger?

"For God's sake, Hood!" She hissed, shaking her head violently-for the Prince, she would have to comb her hair quickly, "I am not about to tell anyone you are here-I couldn't care less for that. You can take all I have, you can…kill every member of the royal family and destroy the castle, all I care. Just let me go."

She watched him raise an uninterested brow. His eyes looked dead, but remorse did not rise within her-if he stalled, Guy would be dead soon.

So, she proceeded attempting to free herself of him. Unfortunately, he grabbed her with both hands, and she was in no position to do him any harm. The struggle was rather pointless, but she had to try.

"Such cowardice is not what you displayed last time we met."

"_Cowardice_?" Elizabeth froze, frowning to herself. Why was he…?

Then she understood that he did not know.

He did not know that she loved Guy, he believed she was loyal to Vaisey, or Prince John, or whoever there was. She had made certain he believed that. This time, though, she had no reason nor intention to hide anything from the outlaw

"Fool!" She spat, but hope was underneath the contempt, "I don't want you to let me go so I could run to the guards or so I could save myself! I want to save _him_. Guy."

Even though she could not have seen his face from this position, she could have felt the surprise in the eyes that bore into the back of her head.

"Gisborne?"

"Yes." Her eyes watered strangely at the words, "Yes, him. I love him, and I am going to Prince John to have him freed. Now, let me go before it is too late."

Robin Hood did not do as she asked him-as she should have expected. She shut her eylids tightly. Great-this was going to get her a whole lot of questions, and waste her a whole lot of time.

"Look, I'll explain it all to you if you like once you release me. If you don't…I'll just scream, and the guards will come and get you." The determination returned to her.

It failed.

"You let him kill your own son?" The outlaw asked flatly, as if it would not have surprised him. Elizabeth lingered for a millisecond on the fact most would have thoght her capable of such an act-then, she snorted.

"I _did not._ Guy is innocent." Hood would not believe that-it was a fact that had her shivering with emotion. Naturally-the 'noble, sainted hero' could not have understood that, thanks to him, someone might have been pushed into poverty and might have chosen the fastest-smartest-way back to well-being.

"An idiot would believe that_._ Besides, he admitted."

Another wave of shock burst through her. Indeed. Guy had admitted, for some reason, to a crime he never committed. Why would he have done that was still beyond the reach of her mind. She felt pain in her temples-this whole matter was becomig too complicated. She had to take one thing at a time.

"Spare me your holier-than-thou talks, I will hear none of them." She retorted, remembeing her anger, "You were the one who sent Guy into poverty, by foolish, childish screaming all those years ago-in case you do not remember. Yes, there are people who choose themselves over peasants, themselves and their family name. I told you what I thought of King Richard and treason a long time ago—"

A sudden pull at her hair had her head jerking backwards, and cut off her thoughts.

"_Let_ me---"

"Shut up." Hood was next to her ear, pulling harder, his breath on her cheek, "Shut up. A long time ago, I let you preach to me, Elizabeth Vaisey. Now, I'll do no such thing. Because of _you_…I lost everything."

Elizabeth had no idea what was he talking about. She tried to free herself once more, but it resulted in harder pressure on her hair.

"What _the hell_ are you talking about?" She opted to try to fix her mind on solving this matter as fast as possible. The coldness in Hood's voice did not really leave much room for optimism.

Hood laughed-or, rather, half-laughed and half-snarled. In a flicker of a moment, she felt something icy against her throat. It did not take long to deduce it was a dagger.

Elizabeth's heartbeat increased and she drew in a sharp breath. She should have called for guards while she still could have-or would he have just killed her on the spot in that case?

_Unimportant_. She had to get out of this now. Then, she'd think of all else. She could not die now. Guy needed her. They needed each other.

"It is like you to forget." Robin Hood went on, and she did not know whether it was her imagination or he sounded more threatening, "It is much like you to forget of all the others you hurt in achieving your grand goal. Let me remind you…" The dagger pressed on a tad tighter, "Let me remind you of the fact that you weaved the story of me and my men being responsible for your rape. Then, let me remind you of the death of Lady Marian of Knighton."

_Marian of Knighton. _Killed at Sheriff Vaisey's orders. Chills went down her spine-if Hood had found that out, had he gone deep enough into grief to forget all about his honorable principles? If someone killed Guy, the sole principle she would have applied to them would be the principle of a painful death. Had Hood come here with the same intentions?

"She was killed." Elizabeth swallowed, "By no order of _mine._" She needed to be careful if she wished to live through the day. Perhaps the truth would be what the outlaw would understand the most. It would certainly work better than telling him she was still sure of his undeniable guilt.

"Vaisey…Vaisey told me the men I described were your gang." She continued, choosing for an edited version of the truth, "I did not know anything about Marian…or about your affair together, I only knew what I was told. I had no choice when it came to confirming Scarlet's identity, or they would have branded me mad! Without the entire Prince John incident..:"

Babbling came to her when nervous, she realized. And now, she was truly nervous. For multiple reasons. Someone was supposed to come soon-where was her mother, where was Matilda? Exactly how much time had passed?

_Collect yourself, Elizabeth. _This was not going to end here. It could not. After all they had done, all they had endured, it could not end with one swish of a fool's dagger. It could not end with nothing being accomplished. With her having failed in the midst of her scheme. One of the most brilliant ones she had come up-and her son was dead, and her lover on his way to join him. _No, it will not end here._

Hood snorted.

"Do you honestly think I will believe your excuses? You made your stance very clear in Sherwood, one day…you take me for more of a dunce than I was."

Strange cold ran through her, "For not killing me?" She asked haltingly, but straightly.

"Yes. But I haven't, _lady _Elizabeth, said the half of what you have done."

Elizabeth bit on her lower lip, beginning to lose all patience. She had to say something, something to make him understand her. Love, was it love?

"I did it for love." She blurted out quickly, bracing herself for whatever was to follow.

A beat.

Laughter.

"Love for _Gisborne_, I suppose?"

"Yes." Elizabeth breathed, "Yes." This was being frank, because it was true. Nearly all, save for the matter with Will Scarlet. The murder, the lies, everything, everything for herself and Guy, "Love for Gisborne."

Another mad chortle followed, and ire rebelled inside her.

"I do not see what is funny." She spat, only to be swirled around rapidly and pressed against the wall, her head colliding with the stone painfully. Hood's face was deformed with rage-or she was merely dizzy.

"It is not funny, it is _sad_. The fact you can love Gisborne is only proof of the kind of woman-person-you are."

"Sir Guy gave up his life so Lady Elizabeth could walk away unharmed."

The calm, composed voice belonged to neither of them. Both their heads turned towards the door, where Matilda stood, straight and seemingly collected.

It was the moment of surprise that Elizabeth realized she could have taken advantage of, had she not been just as shocked as Hood by what the other woman had said.

She did not even bother to pay heed to the questions that lined in her mind. Instead, she fixed her look on Matilda, waiting for more. However, she could not have escaped asking one thing.

"He is not dead?"

_Gave up his life _had sounded awfully like him already being hanged. _Impossible—_

"He lives still." Matilda made a step forward, which had Hood drawing a drop of blood from Elizabeth's skin. She hardly felt it, though. All the events had left her rather numb.

"Matilda," She could not wait, whatever it cost her, "Matilda, what do you mean? He's not guilty, and what would it have to do with _me?_ Prince John will surely…even if _you_—"

Grey eyes looked at her sternly, but in some way compassionately.

"My lady, it was Prince John who wanted you dead in the first place."

If the entire world had come crashing down before, she was certain there must have been something larger than the world, because what fell upon her now could not have been described by any words. The pounding in her skull increased wildly. _Prince John? _

"How? Why?" It could have easily been one of his whims. But his whims did not appear, as irregular and unpredictable as they were, unprompted. What had prompted him to try killing her-had _he_ killed her son in the process?

Wait, was she not in his favor? Had he not sent her new clothing, had he not promised to rid her of Vaisey? Another thing befell her mind, "Had Vaisey had anything to do…with it?"

"No." Matilda tilted her head, "It was Isabella, the sister of Sir Guy and the Prince's former mistress. I caught Marissa, one of the nursemaids, sneaking away—I saw her with Lady Isabella. Cleraly, she and the Prince wanted you dead. She would have been a fool to act thusly without permission from him."

Trying to ignore the buzzing this caused in her brain, Elizabeth forced herself to speak further, "Why did Guy say he was guilty?"

The reply came, steady, "Otherwise, the Prince would have had Marissa, undoubtedly, witness it was you-the madwoman from before."

_Lady Isabella._

One of the enemies she made along the way. One, that was one too many. One that had ruined everything. And one she had hardly ever considered properly. Due to that, it was because of her, Elizabeth's, plan that all of this had occurred. That John was dead, and Guy in the dungeons. Because of the plan she had bragged about so, and the plan Guy had been against, but she had persuaded him that it was safe. Which it had not been because she had overlooked one person.

"I promise…" Her voice trembled, "I_ promise _you, that woman will burn in all the fires…I will have her burn, if it is the last thing I ever do." She blinked, "But first, I will—"

Matilda interrupted her with special emphasis.

"You will flee."

Only then did Elizabeth remember Robin Hood, whose presence and whose dagger had lingered at the back of her mind, where they had withdrawn when Matilda had entered. She knew Matilda had not meant it the way she was about to interpret it, this way, but she refused to acknowledge anything else. She directed her eyes at the outlaw.

"I will flee, from him, as soon as he removes the dagger. Then, I shall save Guy." The prideful glint in her eyes dared anyone to challenge what she said.

She was, however, disappointed, for both of the people with her did exactly that.

"You cannot save him, my lady." Lady Carnan retorted firmly, "All your power here was tied to the person of Prince John. On your own, the sole thing you can accomplish is a hanging for yourself, as well."

"Wait!" Hood's shout came a millisecond after Matilda's words, "Hold on. No one will be doing any fleeing _or_ saving. I am here to bring justice."

"Justice!" Elizabeth could have cried at the outrage, "Is it just for someone to die when they are not guilty of the crime?"

"Is it just, my lady," Matilda appeared oblivious of the outlaw, "For your daughter to be rid of her mother?"

_Davina. _Elizabeth froze. She had not given Davina a single thought. Davina was in danger, too, especially if Prince John had turned against Elizabeth. Guilt began gnawing at her, and she forced herself to cease thinking of Guy at least partially for just a moment.

"Where is Davina?" She asked, with tremor.

Matilda shook her head, and for a moment Elizabeth took it as a sign that something bad, something horrible had happened-until the other woman spoke, "I have taken care of her. I have sent her to her father, to Nottingham…with a letter of explanation."

"What explanation?" The words were icy on her tongue. What if she had written something that should not have been there for Vaisey to see? Elizabeth should have been consulted before anything of the sort had been done. It was rather late, now.

"The explanation of the fact that you will, due to health problems, travel back to your homeland."

The matter-of-fact way in which it was said made Elizabeth's head nearly spin. _Homeland. _Croatia. Away from England, away from Guy, away from the life she had built for her and worked so hard for to have. She had not even had the chance to have the life she had planned on having, and while she had had power briefly, she had been too—

Too, _what_?

No, she could not give up just yet. Because she hardly knew why Prince John had wanted to kill her at all. He did not do such things on the simplest of whims, she reminded herself, though he liked making it look as if he did.

Looking into Matilda's eyes determinedly, she chose to ignore Hood-who grew more annoyed and confused by the moment-and asked.

"Why did Prince John want me dead?"

It did sound stranger when spoken by her own tongue. But she could not just go away. Guy was impriosned…and Davina would lose her mother then, anyway.

Matilda looked at her blankly for a few moments. Then, her eyes trailed over to Robin, and she tilted her head.

"It is highly possible that he wished to replace you with Isabella again, and did not trust you would just settle for it peacefully."

The snort that came out was completely natural.

"What did he think I was going to do, assassinate him?"

"Logically," Matilda's look still rested on Hood, "He believed that, after conspiring to have your own husband killed…you would not wish to go back to him without any attempt at changing that fate."

It did not make sense-or it did, but she did not want it to. She was robbed of the time to conjure up a proper question or a response, however, because Hood cut in.

"Kill…_Vaisey_?" Bewildered, he met her eyes.

"Yes!" Elizabeth snapped impatiently, angry at his interruption and at his mere presence, actually, "Yes, kill Vaisey to be with Guy, to_ marry_ Guy."

Hood seemed genuinely surprised, and even hopeful, for a moment, but then his mad demeanour returned, "And would it be the first time you killed-'_for Guy'_?"

"No." It was her turn to be amazed, at the honesty of her own answer. Maybe she had just signed her own death sentence, "Which is all the more why all of this _shouldn't go to waste_, after all the things that were lost to—"

His dagger disapperead, and Elizabeth found herself breathless, his hand being the thing to clutch her throat tightly.

"You are a dunce if you think I will let you go, woman. You are a dunce if you think I'll fall for your pitiful excuses and lies."

"I am not making any ex-cuses." Elizabeth choked out, "I am gi-ving you the tru-th." Which she was, she was---

And it was right then that Matilda hit Hood with a vase over the head, having him, after a few moments of uncertainity, falling down unconscious.

Air entering her lungs again, Elizabeth caught herself wondering hazily how Matilda had managed to raise that heavy a vase. It did not matter, anyway. She stumbled forward, as far away from Hood as possible, breathing in deeply.

"Matilda…we must hurry. Tie him, hide him…do something with him." He knew too much now, and he was a threat to them, a threat that had to be---Elizabeth did not want to think about it right now, about killing him, because she simply had no _time_ for anoher murder, "We need a plan."

The eyes of the former governess met those of her former charge-with pity inside.

Elizabeth did not need her to speak to see what she was thinking. But she _refused_, Goddamn it, to settle for that!

"No!" She snarled, determination dark in her eyes, extending her shaking hand warningly, "I will not let you tell me…that there truly is nothing that can be done, because I know there is, there_ always_ is, you only have to look harder to find it, and not having anything to do is just a cliché and a pitiful excuse—"

"He told me," Matilda interrupted her, making a step closer and lowering her voice a tad, "Before he was arrested, he told me that he wanted you to leave."

"Bah! Of course he'd say that, _I'd _say it if it were the other way round---"

"And would you feel fine if the person you gave your life for chose to endanger theirs anyway, as you wish to now?"

"Annoyed, of course." Elizabeth confirmed hotly, "But that is the whole point of me and Guy, annoying each other, and it always saved us, before…"

"Before, you did not have nearly as many enemies, he had not gone to jail solely to distract Prince John from you, and—"

"I'll go to the Prince!" Elizabeth went on, stubbornly, "So what if he wanted me dead? He had wished bad things upon me before. I'd managed to bring him round, and Guy had managed to bring him round for me-I'll do it again!"

Matilda's lips compressed, "No, my lady." She replied as peacefully as she could have, "The situation is not the same. Someone must be blamed for the death of your son."

Elizabeth swallowed back the pain that climbed up at the mention of this, the shock having kept it at bay before, "So?" She raised her head high, "The son of the Sheriff of Nottingham and the Prince's Mistress could have easily had many enemies...despite his age." A beat, "Vaisey-Vaisey knows Guy would never do it!"

"Vaisey, my lady," Matilda looked at her strongly, "Has lost a lot of influence thanks to you. And you cannot go to him, for the Prince would easily tell him that you had wanted him dead. Vaisey would do whatever Prince John liked-you have made certain he could not have much choice in such matters."

_I have. I have. _Elizabeth was so appalled at this sudden fact that she nearly faltered.

It was her fault. It had been her plan. It had lost them everything. Their dreams, their plans for the future and Guy's life. Guy had been through so much-tears welled up in her eyes when she remember how much. And he had to die for her, who had never even known the meaning of the words loss, poverty or exile(save for that temporary ban from London) in her entire life.

It was not right.

"I-I'll go to the King." She stuttered, running a hand through her hair, refusing to let it be, unable to let it be, "I'll t-tell him the truth, tell him I'll do anything…"

"The King would simply punish both of you. He is your enemy too, my lady."

That could not be it.

She could---

Or she could _maybe_---

Perhaps---

_Perhaps_---

Perhaps---

Nothing.

Finally, her entire life came crashing down.

All was gone; or on its way there. Yesterday, when all had been so perfect, when they had had their love, their life, their power, was distant, as if far behind in history. Everything was now destroyed, everything was burning. And the only thing Elizabeth could have done was to do what the procedure was when fire enveloped a building.

Run before she got burnt down, too.

It made sense, as hurtful as it was, that Guy could not have survived as well. When a log fell off a roof during a fire, one person took the blow for the other to survive. John-John had been the first victim, the beginning…only the beginning.

Once she was gone, they would hang him-she would have to run before that happened. She would not even be able to watch…whether that was for the better or for the worse, she could not have decided.

But was there truly nothing to do? No…no letter to write, no signatures to forge, no more plays to play—

_Charades for deceit of the King._

_Like the one last year._

_**Of course!**_

For the first time since yesterday, Elizabeth laughed out loud with relief.

Matilda stared at her as if she had lost her mind. Not that that would have been impossible, considering the circumstances. This time, however, Elizabeth was completely sane.

"Listen to me," She hissed, grabbing hold of Matilda's forearms, life quickly returning to her, just as all her senses-including that of accomplishment and strength, "Listen to me, and do _exactly_ as I say…."

**We are nearing the end, you know. :D Not yet, but soon.**


	23. Mea Maxima Culpa

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

"Why do you wish me to depart?"

Lady Maria Horvat had been summoned to her daughter's chambers by none other than Elizabeth herself, and was sitting across her in the parlor, her brow high above her green eyes. Elizabeth could have felt just as well as seen that she was hurt initially, assuming she wished for the departure to be rid of her. That would have been logical, due to all the protests and coldness she had received from the older lady, but it was not Elizabeth's reason. Elizabeth was all but logical.

"Mother," She switched to silent Croatian, not to be overheard by anyone, "It has nothing to do with the fact you have been displeased with my conduct and my affair with Prince John." Who was very stupid if he had not gotten himself a Croatian translator by now, "In fact…it is for your safety." Her eyes looked intently at Maria's.

Maria did not appear satisfied, "And for what reason do you presume I am unsafe here?" She frowned, "Has your lover gotten tired of you?"

The reprecussion in her tone made it much harder for Elizabeth to do what she had known would be necessary ever since the beginning. But there was no time to think of pride now, so she swallowed it all back, jutting out her chin.

"Mother, it is time I made a confession." Her voice was haughtier than intended, but Maria's eyes could not have produced any other effect. She was feeling almost like a little girl who had made a whole lot of wrong choices and done a whole lot of little mistakes-and she did not like it; "I'll start from the beginning, since otherwise valuable time would be wasted-and we have too little of that, anyway."

Maria blinked, then nodded slowly, if haltingly and with confusion, "Fine. Begin…"

Elizabeth took a deep breath, and began. It was in order to save Maria's life-and she had to make certain Maria left fast enogh, if Guy's life was to be preserved, as well. _Focus. _She had barely managed to put on a clean dress and bring her hair into relative order.

"Three years ago, I was taken by the outlaws. You know that-and raped. What you do not know is that it was my plan to go into the forest under a disguise of sorts-and rid Nottingham of the outlaw Robin Hood."

"What?!" The incursion had been expected, aye, but unpleasant anyway, "Rash child, had you lost your—"

"Please!" Elizabeth raised her voice and extended a stopping hand, "Please." She went on softer, after a moment of silence, "Let me finish. Let me say it all, and no matter what you hear, do not interrupt me until then. Please." She could not have borne having to explain each of her actions separately. _I have done too many things to do it that way. _Things her mother never should have known.

But unless she knew it all, she could not understand why it mattered so much to Elizabeth to have her flee, and she had to understand once she heard it all. It was, after all, about the happiness of her child. She had to s_ee_. Everything-not just the necessity of the escape.

After brief contemplation, Maria agreed to the terms, and Elizabeth went on.

She tried to concentrate on the words, more than their meaning-and to destroy any emotion they carried along.

An impossible mission, naturally, doomed before the beginning. But she'd had to try.

"I did not know of the fact…those man had not been Robin Hood's at all until the hanging of Will Scarlet. Vaisey knew I would not recognize him, and he wanted to make certain I said _it had been_ Scarlet, anyway." At this point, she caught herself averting her gaze from her mother's, looking at the edge of her sofa, "So, he told me that he had amended my plan-it was why he had married me, because the rumours about Hood raping an innocent were the key to his plan. The gang that had raped me had been his. The plan had worked, mind you, and since then Hood had not been as favored as before." Her head jerked back up.

Maria was glaring at her, appalled, shocked, but speechless. Elizabeth hurried along before that changed, her heartbeat incerasing painfully and her palms sweating. How much of Maria's love would she lose today…how much had she lost already? _It is the only way._

"I let him hang…it was the only way. I would have been branded mad otherwise." She was not supposed to justify herself, but it was unavoidable, "Some time later, I was sent to London…where I was branded mad, but for the sole purpose of not being executed. Prince John…" She hesitated, "Prince John had attempted to force himself upon me, in his quarters…and I had attacked him. He'd had me arrested, and it was Sir Guy who had found me wandering the castle prior to that…and it was Sit Guy who had persuaded him to solely ban me. We returned to Nottingham, where Vaisey punished us-both of us. Despite that, a few days later I snapped at him, rising his wrath. It would have been evoked, had Guy not made up the fact that the Nightwatchman-a criminal-had returned. He'd done it to save me, but it put us both in trouble, because Vaisey forced us to disguise as common citizens and catch this person-who had disappeared a long time ago. It was his head or ours-and we chose the former." Her eyes travelled away again, and closed, "We found a peasant to blame for that role. He was hanged, with his father who had begged for his life."

Maria made an attempt at getting to her feet, with a sharp inhale of pure horror, but she collapsed back onto the sofa, her hands limp on her pallor of her was nearly terrible to behold-but not nearly as the anger in her expression.

"You…you let innocent men die…conspired to have them killed…with the man who killed your son—

"Guy _never _killed John." Elizabeth snapped with ire, "Guy was John's _father_."

Her mother was stupified.

"Dear God.." She whispered, closing her eyelids, "Dear God.."

"We fell in love." Elizabeth continued, suppressing trembling-this all seemed so surreal to her, "We went on meeting, and we knew it would be our deaths if Vaisey found out. A physician knew…" This was the hardest part, "The physician knew the child was not my husband's. I had to…I killed him." She looked fiercely at Maria, "I had to, or we all would have died!"

"You could have fled." The voice was frosty, the stare unrelenting and unforgiving, "You should have fled! It is not right for _anyon_e to kill innocents in order to protect themselves—"

"What about killing in order to protect my love and my child?" Elizabeth countered with fire. "Would you have killed for that?"

Maria clenched her jaw, "I would have fled! _**Why**_ did you not do that?"

Elizabeth snorted, shaking her head, "Huh. Fled! And left everyhting we had worked for behind because of one man? Do you know, mother, that Guy had watched his father cast out as a leper and him and his mother dying in a fire when he was seventeen? That his parents had been killed because of none other than Robin Hood? Do you not understand that he was ready to do anything to restore the family name, for them and their glory? He had sold his sister for that. We could not have left everything behind for the life of _one man_."

Maria took in a deep breath, drawing herself up to her fullest height.

"And what is _Guy_ than just one man, for it to be right to have done all of these crimes for him?"

Elizabeth blinked, annoyance and fury rising within her.

"He is one man that I_ LOVE_! I would do _anything_ for him, I would destroy worlds, massacre women and children, kill, die, can't you _understand that_?"

Tears began welling up in her eyes. It was not impossible to see. It was clear as day. Why would she care for the other people, who meant nothing to her, when there was Guy on the other side? Wasn't that completely natural?

To her, it was.

Maria finally rose to her feet, looking at her dishevelled daughter. Elizabeth felt she was not going to change her opinion-not for the whole world. A part for her was sunk-but she knew she should have expected this. These were the sorts of opinions she and her mother had always disagreed upon most heartily. Neither had ever understood the perspective of the other. There was non reason for that to change now.

"I will be leaving immediately."

Good-good, good, excellent. That, at least.

"Perfect-you must, because the Prince wants me dead." She forced a brief smirk, a short-lived attempt to return to her strength, "But I will make it." Tears came again, though, "If you would only understand, mother…I cannot _live_ without him—"

Maria paled some more at the mention of death, and Elizabeth saw the concern-the concern which was, however, never voiced.

"I can understand love. But atrocities cannot be justified by it."

"Love can justify everything!" Elizabeth hit her foot against the floor, "Every human being knows that, deep down!"

"When atrocities are committed to save it, love ceases being love. It becomes obsession, lust and passion." Maria let her hand close over her face with a sigh, "You married a cruel man, Elizabeth. But you stood by his cruelties, and had you married this Guy of yours, you would have enforced those cruelties further, just as well."

Pride raised within her, "Yes, I would have! What do you think, mother, that this world is a fairytale? You have to get dirty if you ever wish to succeed, and I was sent here in order to succeed! Do you think father and Ivan had had nothing to do with the King's abduction?"

"I know they had. But they had never murdered anyone."

"That is what you think."

"That is what I _know. I_ lived with them, you lived in England." Her voice raised a notch, and her eyes glinted, "My husband and my son are no murderers. My daughter is the sole member of my family who has turned into one."

A frustrated snarl lef Elizabeth's throat, and she got to her feet, too.

"I _had _to. Would you rather have had me dead already? Would you rather have had your child murdered than a murderess?"

Maria's eyes closed in thought, or sadness, or denial, Elizabeth could not have told what. By the time they opened, they were dry, if they had ever been otherwise. If she had shed a single tear, it was gone now, replaced by steel she so often showed, herself, only for different causes.

"No." Maria finally spoke, flatly, "I gave birth to you, and I would feel worse and more hurt if you had been killed," Her eyes bore into Elizabeth's meaningfully, "But so much _prouder _for my daughter who had held true to her principles. I would bare my sadness and grief with pride-now, I only have shame. And no daughter, one way or another."

With that, she raised her head higher, and walked towards the door.

Elizabeth stood there, dumbfounded, in pain, taken aback, but strangely unsurprised, yet again. The last emotion was becoming almost kin to her-or it had, in the last couple of days.

_No daughter. No daughter._

After all she had done. After all the times she had destroyed useful connections if they dared say a thing against her family: Elizabeth had never borne anyone disrespecting them. After all she had been through in order to, among other things, make them, the family, proud.

"Father would understand!" She blurted out madly, spinning around, wishing to stop Maria from leaving _like this_.

The back of her mother came to a halt, and Elizabeth dared hope, hurrying to say more, "I did a lot of things to make you proud-I did not flee and I chose murder in order to make the family proud! Not to end up as a runaway wench! I wanted to…" She breathed out, squeezing her eyes shut. Maybe this would help. Maybe it would only make matters worse, but she had to make an attempt, "I wanted to put an end to all the scheming, get rid of Vaisey and live an honest life with Guy, even if we _would…_have high taxes or whatever not; as if that matters! That was why I was with Prince John in the first place. Just to be rid of Vaisey…and to keep mine and Guy's family name and power intact."

Lady Maria just stood there, still not facing Elizabeth. Taking in a shaky lungful of air, the latter wished for her mother to turn around, embrace her and tell her that she understood, or at least forgave her, at least loved her enough to try.

Nothing happened.

"Don't you see?" She made a desperate try, "We were planning on being married. It was all for _love_…"

At this, Maria did spin around, rapidly. Before Elizabeth had time to feel relief or elation-which was for the best, at given circumstances-she was close to her, and her hand made a swift movement of a slap across her face.

It stung-more on the inside than the outside, that one cliché was always true.

"John is dead because of you." Maria stood shorter than her, but spoke to her from high above, "It is no wonder Prince John wished to dispose of you. You are easy to see through. _You _think that the world is a fairytale, with twisted characters. Now, you have sealed your own fate. You are no longer a daughter of mine."

Elizabeth was left alone, long before Maria actually left the room. She had fulfilled her task, at a certain cost. Now, her mother would never lover her the same way again. But her plan would be fulfilled, and Guy would not be lost to her.

Guy would not be lost.

That was the sole thing that mattered now. The sole thing that had been left to matter.

* * *

In the dark of the night, she left. Matilda had packed her things, as little of them as possible, leaving most of the grand dresses behind. It was befitting, since she was leaving her grand life behind. Maria had already departed, without any other greeting save for that slap.

Elizabeth could not have gotten rid of the strange numbness that had enveloped her back then, despite the amount of time and thoughts she had concentrated on that. She could have barely felt her hands when she had fiddled with her cloak, tying it at her chest before sneaking into the courtyard, where a small carriage awaited her in the corner. Matilda had hired it, and the coachman was supposedly trusted-as long as they were paying him.

Matilda had stayed behind. She had to be the one to deliver Elizabeth's letter to King Richard-the letter in which she admitted to poisoning her own son, and prayed for the release of Sir Guy in a sudden fit of remorse-she also declared she was on her way to an abbey in order to repent for her sins for the rest of her life.

The carriage was flying across the road, among the hills and the woods, towards Hull. No abbey was Elizabeth's true destination. In Hull, she would wait for a ship that would take her and Guy over the seas, to the mainland. Matilda was to tell Guy that Elizabeth would be found in Hull, of course. Together, they would go to France, where they would settle with the money sent to them by her family.

And where they would marry-under false names, of course. _Jimmie and Humberta all over again. _No-they would find a priest to marry them under their true names. She wanted to be Lady Gisborne, once and for all eternity.

Matilda had promised to take care of Robin Hood, who had remained tied up and had been shoved into her vast armoire. Elizabeth did not know what would be done with him, and she did not care. Nor did she want to think about it at all. _Lady Gisborne. _Finally.

Davina was the part of her that would be missing, though.

Davina Joanna…who was better of with her father.

Vaisey would raise her to want power, but to, unlike her mother, have the skills and the heart and the stomach for it. Davina would not overlook one single woman, Davina would not let love or any other emotion(remorse) get in the way-Davina would be like Vaisey. Elizabeth prayed for that. It was so much easier for people like them.

Her daughter would marry a prominent man, and live a life of luxury and power. _She will probably never even be told of me. _A single tear slid down her cheek at that thought, and she looked a the starry sky. _I will think of you every day, Davina, even if I never see you again. _Which was more than just extremely likely.

She would have more children with Guy-and they would have lands finer than Gisborne, and one day, their children would restore Gisborne as their birthright. The heavy burden of teaching them well enough for that landed on her heart even now. But they would have to.

For power, for vengeance, for family honor-they would have to.

**A happy ending, after all? :)) Whoever knows...**


	24. My Love, Lady Elizabeth

**After this, there is just the Epilogue left. Here's a list of songs I listened to while writing-maybe listening to them while reading will enhance your impression- ;)**

_+Moonlight Shadow_

_+Hurt-Johnny Cash_

_+Viva la Vida-Coldplay_

_+Funeral of Hearts-HIM_

_+Solemn Hour-Within Temptation_

_+Hurt-Christina Aguilera_

**_Enjoy!_**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Guy knew exactly how long he had been in the dungeons. Two days, two whole days. Two days, during which he had spent each moment he was awake-which meant a vast majority of the time-praying for Elizabeth to have been able, smart enough and not as stubborn not to-escape.

It was relatively unclear to him, still, how it had come to this. He, Guy of Gisborne, hungry for vengeance and for blood, and for restoration of his lands, his birtright and his power. Ready to hang for the life of one, foreign woman made of the same fabric as himself.

He had never been ready to do anything simillar for Marian, who had been his opposite, who had represented everything clear, pure and good in his life. Oh, he had done plenty of things for her, but he had never so impulsively, so _naturally_ risked his life for her-no, gave his life for her, because this was certain death. He would have always given it good thought-how to help Marian. He had never just thrown himself in front of her and taken the fall for her. But for Elizabeth, yes. _Anything._

The fact Prince John had wanted her dead, and probably still did, made his blood boil even now. It had done the same to him in her chambers, where, at one moment, he had been telling her he loved her, and at the other they were standing above their dead son's body. _The Prince must have found out about_ us-that had been Guy's first thought. Then Matilda appeared, breathless, in order to inform them she had seen Marissa, the nursemaid, with Isabella-it had been Isabella's doing.

After that, there had been no more time. If the Prince was eager to replace Elizabeth with Isabella, accusing her of the murder would have been the first thing he'd have done. Lady Carnan had pointed out that the Prince would never trust Elizabeth to just walk away peacefully after all he knew she was capable of. Elizabeth was done for-unless someone else offered to take that role.

The worst of all was the fact the most of the regret he was expriencing-and it was strong regret, not to be mistaken-was for the fact he would never see her again.

There was the fact he would never do what he had vowed to at the grave of his parents-the burnt down Gisborne manor-there was the fact he had worked so hard and lost it all, but none of it hurt as much as never seeing Elizabeth again.

And the fact she had only found out he had truly loved her moments before they had been parted forever. He wished he had told her before.

It was amidst such thoughts that the voice of Matilda Carnan reached his ears.

"Sir Guy."

Guy raised his head from his knees, where it had been rested, looking through blurry eyes at the direction of the voice. Once his vision cleared, he saw Matilda clearly, her petite figure as straight and firm as ever. Her voice was not betraying anything, so he gathered Elizabeth was perfectly all right. Then again, Matilda never showed any emotion, so everything was possible.

All the more reason to hurry in order to find out.

"Lady Carnan." He pushed onto his feet, making his way closer, his voice reduced to whisper, "Is she…?"

"All right." Matilda replied quickly, bathing him in relief, "She is perfectly safe, and at a safe distance from here."

Closing his eyes, Guy leaned his head against the bars, exhaling longly.

"Good. That is…the way it is supposed to be."

At least she had not refused to leave. That possiblity had been vivid inside his mind, and he was content they had managed to overcome her fire, her temper and her personality, on the whole, in order to save her life. He would have hated for his sacrifice to have been in vain. _And not because of myself. _But because there was nothing else he would have been able to do to protect her, if she had not left.

However, something nudged at his heart, and he looked back down at Matilda. He had to know another thing- a thing that would serve instead of his air, water and breath until he was hung.

"Did she…" He hesitated, licking his lips nervously, not knowing quite how to formulate it, "Did she oppose…leaving?" _Leaving me to die._

His heart jumped up considerably when Matilda nodded once more.

"She did. She opposed leaving-and she never settled for leaving you here."

Unreasonable elation that was there because she had not wanted to leave him(as Marian would have), because it had made a difference to her whether he lived or died, mixed with confusion in his facial expression.

"Never settled?" Alarm was in his voice, "I thought you said she'd left."

Swallowing deeply, Matilda looked down at her dress, where she had a reticule. In a second, she produced a paper, handing it to him through the bars.

"Read." She commanded, when he made no attempt at taking it. Taken aback, he did as told, unrolling the parchment.

By the time he was done, he felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

His Elizabeth. She had written a letter, to none other than King Richard, in which, from far away she took the blame. King Richard _would _release him, despite of what his brother said-and Elizabeth had convinced Richard Vaisey was an honest man, working for an honest Prince. Richard had no reason not to trust her, and he would be reassured by the fact Guy had chivalrously taken the fall for the wife of his lord.

That was his lady. Capable of anything.

But Matilda was not showing this to him just to impress him. He blinked, giving her his full attention. It was impossible to read her thoughts, so he raised a brow, clearing his throat; "Why have you shown this to me?"

Matilda went on as emotionlessly as before.

"She is waiting for you in Hull, where she wants you to find her. You are to take a ship to France, where you shall live on her family's money."

"I see." Of course. She would never be safe here, not with her admission to the crime. Murdering her own son…Vaisey would be the first to hang her high.

Guy suddenly thought upon his lands, that he had almost fully regained-was he to lose it all, once more? When he _could_ remain here and have it back?

The dilemma did not get to ever be finished, because Matilda spoke again.

"Then you must see that this letter must be destroyed."

His jaw dropping, Guy stared at the woman dumbfoundedly.

"Destroyed? Have you lost your mind?"

The letter was his sole way out, his sole way to freedom and to Elizabeth, and his whole life depended on it, "Why would I want to destroy the letter?" He repeated, shaking his head.

Matilda sighed impatiently, betraying the first sign of emotion during this meeting.

"Because it will never succeed. They will follow you to her; or do you think no one would find it suspicious that you suddenly left? Do you think they will not suspect at all and believe everything that is said? Do you honestly believe things work out so simply in life?"

Anger rose within him, "I of all people know life is not simple." He barked at the woman.

On the inside, he became doubtful.

Really, would King Richard be so naïve? Would there be nothing Prince John or that witch Isabella would do? What if the Prince told Vaisey and the King of Elizabeth's foul plans of one kind or another, what if they included him in it?

She would become a renowned madwoman and murderess in the eyes of all if this letter was seen by anyone. If all of it happened in vain, it would be devastating. If she was, among other things, caught and God forbid hurt-he would never forgive himself.

Not if he knew he'd had a chance to change it somewhere along the way.

That chance was here and now.

"I will tell the Prince she left for an Abbey far in the North." Matilda regarded him, probably guessing at what was occurring within his mind, "Your sister wishes to be rid of you, so she produced a 'witness' to your crime-Marissa. With her, and your admission, you will be hung soon. Before they find out she is not in the Abbey, you will already be dead, and they will not be able to torture you."

Guy knew what she was saying was true. He knew that she was right, and that she was making perfect sense. Still, his eyes darted hopefully to the letter in his hands.

"Maybe they will believe this. Maybe…maybe she does not care for the reputation, and it will not matter in France…?" He looked hopefully, nearly pleadingly, at Lady Carnan.

But she told him what he already knew.

"A fool would lay their hopes in that." Her jaw clenched, "You cannot keep playing your games forever, the two of you. Your death is the only thing that would end her downfall completely-for all times."

Guy of Gisborne was left alone, long before Matilda Carnan disappeared from the dungeons. She left him with a whole letter resting in his hands, and a heavy knot within his throat, and his heart.

Seven hours later, when the guards came to take him to the gallows, only little bits of paper were around him. Matilda had come two hours prior to the execution, in order to have him write the letters in which he made certain Elizabeth went to France, and in which he explained all to her. Guy had lied to Matilda-he had kept one bit of her letter to the king, one, unimportant bit with just two words on it-_'my love'. _The context in which she had used them had been 'my love for my child', but Guy let himself, in the last moments of his life, pretend that, when she had written this, with that fire in her eyes that he knew so well, that had annoyed him so much and that he had loved so much-that she had been thinking upon her love for him.

The dilemma that had followed him all the way to the noose dangling in the air just for him-after he had had so many hung, it was poetic justice for him to hang, too-was the same one that had appeared when he'd thought he'd be safe and sound in a matter of hours.

Would he have, had he been freed, really chosen France and Elizabeth, or his lands and power here, in England?

Would he have acted in according to all both of them had always held good and useful, and chosen the power?

Or would he have chosen _her_?

In the moment of his last intake of breath, when all the fear and the numbness and the disbelief were gone, he realized that he _had _made the choice.

He had chosen her.

He had loved her.

He always would.

* * *

"_Madame _Ghislaine! _Une lettre!_"

Elizabeth rose to her feet immediately, throwing her hair back with her hands and hurrying out of her room, meeting her servant Denise half-way down the marble staircase of her townhouse in Paris. Her French had never been too brilliant, but she could have understood the servant who had been instructed to speak slowly for her sake. _Une lettre. _A letter.

There were only two people who knew she had taken the name of Lady Ghislaine while in France. Matilda-and Guy.

"_Ou est-ce?" _She demanded with a bad accent, extending her hand. Denise, a plump, round-faced woman in her twenties, smiled widely at her and reached at her basket full of freshly baked bread, digging out a piece of white paper.

"_Ici, Madame. Votre mari?"_

The curious nature of the woman did not matter-Elizabeth did not have a hard time coming up with new lies. Guy was going to be her husband, the parchment with nearly ravenous hunger, she nodded her head.

"_Oui. Merci."_ She turned around, clutching to her treasure and returning to her chambers, controlling herself with unearthly powers in order not to tear the letter open, "_Faites le __déjeuner, _Denise_!_" She shouted back at the servant-she was feeling her appetite returning.

Guy. Again. Finally.

She had waited for him in Hull for nearly two weeks, before his letter arrived. He congratulated her on the plan, telling her it had succeeded. Telling her that he was a free man again, thanks to her. Even now, she felt accomplished when thinking of that-she had taken matters into her own hands, succesfully saving him from death and making certain her life was the way she wanted it to be.

But his letter had also told her to go to Paris, France without him. He had said he needed to take care of certain matters, and that it was for the best for her to depart. He had promised to find her. So, though bemused, she had left.

That had been a month ago.

Now, she was all the more thrilled to hear from him again. Not just because she had woken every day, hoping, yearning for any sign of him, or because she had spent many a sleepless night worrying about whatever business had kept him from her.

It was also because she was with child again.

'_Your child, Guy.'_ She thought as she sat down at her desk, tearing the letter open, _'Our child.' _Not of her and Vaisey, like John had been and like dear Davina was. The child of her and Guy, in all meanings of the expression.

Her worries had partially left her-if he was writing to her, that meant he was all right, and that he had news. As a matter of fact, she was certain he would be informing her of his quick arrival. She had already found them a pirest who, for a good pouch of gold, would unite them in holy matrimony and keep his mouth shut about it.

So they could, at long last, be together, 'til death parted them.

Lady Elizabeth spread the parchment wide, her heart more hopeful than it had been in years, and began reading.

_My love, Lady Elizabeth;_

_You are reading this approximately a month after your departure from Hull-presuming it had happened any time soon after you received my last letter. I hope this finds you in good health, good conditions, and a good life._

_I have never written a letter of this sort in my life-most people never do. I know you and your impatient nature, and your spitefulness, but this one, last time, indulge me and do not skip over the lines. Read all by proper order. I warn you, I am not responsible for your shock if you do not._

_I am writing this in my cell, where I await execution. Some hours ago, Lady Carnan visited me with your letter for the King. You were brilliant-never the one to give up. Then again, you have always been that way-and that is why I love you. Never forget how much I love you, Elizabeth. Never._

_The finest of plans have flaws, though. This scheme of yours had, frankly, a whole score of them. It was like an attempt to have it all as it had been before-we screw up(forgive me, but you never were shy with curse words), one of us(or both) is in danger, and all is solved through a brilliant scheme, lies and lots of pretense._

_I am grateful to you for trying-hell, I would build you a monument for trying, caring and loving me; not just this once, but all the time. Which is exactly why I must point out to you how it is_ not_ true this never would have worked. Maybe it would have, there was always that chance, and a good one, I'll grant you that-but I just could not take the risk of any further harm coming to you._

_We have gone too far. Our son is dead, Prince John wants you dead, and I am to hang soon. Matilda has shown me clearly how we could not go on like this forever-slipping out of every situation and remaining intact. It has to end somewhere-and together with the demise of that system has to come the end of either you or me._

_I made my choice. Me. I do not know what has made me care for you this much, but God above knows that I do. You matter to me more than the world, which is why I had to trick you._

_My apologies, my lady, for your living in lies, false hopes and expectations since your departure from England. It keeps me comfort that that was the only way for you to be persuaded to leave me behind-and knowing that fact, I will walk to my death as a content man. Because you cared more than anyone ever had._

_You would want for this letter to be long;or at least I hope you would, to have a longer memory of me- and I do not know of a more productive way to spend my solemn hours than indulging your wish some more. Not that our relationship was based on that. We were like a cat and a dog, or some more fearsome animals whose names I can't remember just now. Ah, and what had we done? United our forces to destroy others. I guess people had to die for such a fiery union to be preserved. I've no regrets. For you, I would kill again and again, and die, obviously. I'd also say 'ask nothing in return', but that would not be characteristic._

_So, in return, I ask that you never find anyone to replace me. You are one of a kind to me, and I hope I am the same to you. Where can you, after all, find someone like me, other than within yourself, my lady? If you ever feel the desire to marry another man, do, but never have someone just to be reminded of me. You will not find the same man anywhere, and it will cause you hurt and pain._

_I wish you happiness, and you will find it again, since it is in human nature to endure. Yours, especially, for you are the strongest woman I know. Time will heal all wounds, and when yours elapses, I will be waiting for you in hell. That is where we shall next meet-we both would find heaven not to our tastes, since most of the people we destroyed are most likely there._

_We, as soulmates, shall burn eternally side by side…and enjoy it._

_The guards are coming, and Matilda's telling me to hurry. Well, it was nice knowing you, my lady Horvat, and I am certainly glad I had caught you that day on the stairway. Who knows, if I had not…would you have gone to Heaven instead?_

_As beautiful as you look when you cry, don't. You haven't seen the last of me-even if you have, on this Earth._

_Your lover;_

_Sir Guy of Gisborne_


	25. Pride, Vengeance, Family Honor

**Epilogue**

Lady Elizabeth, despite her initial beliefs, recovered from Sir Guy's death.

Time did heal all wounds, even if some people did not want for them to be healed. Even if she cried, despite the fact he had told her not to, even if she thought of him every day and night, every moment of her life, even if she saw him in her dreams-she got used to all that soon. Too soon.

She had always been dramatic-it did make sense that her life story and her love story both turned out so dark, passionate and grievous. She had always daydreamed about not living an ordinary life, she had always wanted something special. The irony of the fact she had gotten it was rather maddening.

Though it was hard to believe that at first, it could have been worse. They could have suffered a simillar fate sooner. They could never have met. And she could have been left without him, and without anything to remind her of him-which certainly had not been the case.

She had his letter, aye, which she kept safe at all times(not close, because she was afraid she'd tear it by accident), and she had a living, breathing, small version of him-their son.

Naturally, she had named him Guy. The night after his birth had, contrary to her beliefs, been the first night since his father's death when she had been unable to cry. Oh, no, not without the desire to cry. That desire had been with her, stronger than even, building up in her chest, blocking her breathing and threatening to explode. But the tears refused to come.

Half-way through her pregnancy, Matilda had come to visit. Elizabeth had sent her away, not even deigning to come down and see her. The reason to that was fear-fear that she would not be able to control herself and that she would strangle the woman. Matilda was to blame for Guy's death. Matilda, who had not listened to her lady's instructions. Elizabeth had Denise inform her former governess that she never wished to lay eyes upon her again.

She did not know why had she not wanted Matilda's death at that moment; God knew she had oft wished upon it earlier. Maybe she had feared that another murder would send her deep into madness, and have her lose her mind completely. Which she could not have allowed.

Little Guy was five when she married again. He was a member of French nobility, about her age, who never knew her under another name than Ghislaine, the widow Gisborne. His name was Justin, and he was handsome, but harsh in personality. Elizabeth had not listened to Guy's request-she had married the man that reminded her of him. And while Justin was rarely gentle to her; more rarely than Guy had been; she considered him the right father for her son. One who would manage to have little Guy become a ruthless man, who would return to his birthright and restore it, fulfilling his true father's dreams.

Elizabeth had never gotten rid of the guilt-the terrible guilt because had it no been for her, Guy would have succeeded in life, and he would have gotten what he had wanted. However, she knew that, had she been offered another start, she would have selfishly chosen to be with him again, because she was thankful to what little time she had had with him. That selfishness-and the guilt she felt due to its existance-was slowly eating her on the inside.

The relationship between her and Justin was very simillar to and reminescent of the one she had had with Guy. She let herself believe that she and Guy would have been like that, had they managed to marry. Whether it helped or made things worse, she never was able to tell.

Her first child with Justin came a year and a half after their marriage. A son, named Antoine. Three years afterwards, came his sister, Madeleine. By that time, Guy was already over nine years old-and not to her liking, at all.

Elizabeth's constant attempts to make him strong, endurable and cold had created the opposite effect. Justin had tried to aid her, but none of it had been succesful. Guy was a plump child, prone to cowardice, overly emotional, and with all the traits Elizabeth had always despised in a man. She did not know where she had gone wrong-both of her other children, as they grew, became just the way she had wanted them to. Never had she stopped feeling disappointment for the fact that her child with the man she had loved was completely unfit for the tasks that awaited him in life.

When he was eighteen, Elizabeth told him the truth of his heritage-the whole truth. She had never been so disappointed, terrified and appalled as when he began whimpering, refusing to go and do anything about the whole matter.

Enraged, she ordered him over the sea, to England, telling him it was his destiny, his future-for pride, vengeance, family honor. She had even given him a dozen strong, armed men to accompany him, but none of them had managed to save his life.

He had never even reached England-he fell into the sea and drowned in the waves of the channel.

She had, upon hearing this, nearly gone to England on her own. But then she realized she had no one to retrieve the Gisborne lands for-the last of the Gisbornes had been her son, a failure…and there was only Isabella.

The twelve men had had their purpose, though. Once her son died, they were instructed to go on to England, and to some of his bidding. She could not have just given all up-vengeance was, after all, still hers.

The leader of the men wrote her a letter, in which he informed her of the status in England. Prince, or rather King John, was long dead. Isabella lived as the Lady of Gisborne, her husband Thornton dead. Vaisey was dead, too, and Davina, her Davina, had been widowed once and married twice. Her second husband was none other than Allan A' Dale-Sheriff of Nottingham. The first had been, as she and Vaisey had planned a long time ago, one of Prince…_King_ John's illegitimate sons.

Robin Hood was dead, along with Ines-they had been killed in a fire in Sherwood- and their son Roger was in the employ of Lady Isabella. They had changed his name to Richard, but he had switched back to Roger for some, unknown reason. Maybe in order to please Isabella.

'_Lady Davina is a beauty, my lady.' _The leader wrote, '_Her hair is unruly and as if made of pure gold, but her face and her eyes are yours. She is a rich and a well-placed woman.'_

At least not all of Lady Elizabeth's children were to be a disappointment-Antoine and Madeleine did not count, since their mother was Lady Ghislaine, and they knew of no other.

Lady Isabella was murdered gruesomely by Elizabeth's mercenaries, and the lands ended up in the hands of Hood's son. Had she given it better thought, maybe Elizabeth would have seen how Isabella would have at least been a Gisborne-but anger had blinded her. So, a Locksley ruled both Locksley and Gisborne, united under one name.

She never saw English soil again in her life. She lived long enough to see her son marry a daughter of a Count, and her daughter a Duke, long enough to forever bemoan the choices she had made, the treatment of her son, _her_ many failures. Her mother had never visited her again, but her father and brother had, sending her money and coming to see her children. She forever wondered what Davina had been told of her by Vaisey, and she had enough time to write a will, in which she explained the truth to Justin.

Lady Elizabeth died in the fifty-fifth year of her life, of severe pneumonia. She had begun losing her mind, not remembering bits of her life and fainting(she especially hated fainting) for no reason even earlier. During her last hours, she called out for Guy, she called out for her son, she begged for forgiveness. Then, with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, she was gone.

Justin read her will, made her funeral arrangemens, and then burned the paper, turning the dark past of his wife into ashes together with her.

On her tombstone in Paris, at her final request, it was engraved:

_Ghislaine, Comtesse du Trienne_

_(Lady Elizabeth Horvat, Vaisey and Gisborne)_

_Pride, Vengance, Family Honor_

_***_

**Well, that is officially the ending! :D**

**I hope you enjoyed following this story, and I hope I'll write something new for you to have fun with soon, whether a sequel or a whole new tale.**

_**Review! ;)**_


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